


Journey To Andersonville

by Debi_C



Series: Tok'ra Flats [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Gen, Horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debi_C/pseuds/Debi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THE VERY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF THE RIDERS OF TOK‘RA FLATS. A little bit of history on their Sheriff and The Riders of Tok’ra Flats.</p><p>The 'other' language used here is Cherokee. The website for the Cherokee/English dictionary is www.wehali.com/tslage/index/cfm?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Part

Cherokee nations, Oklahoma 1864

Daniel Jackson was chopping wood out back of his cabin when he heard the sounds of horses coming up the dirt road that led to his farm. The young man came around the side of his log cabin and looked up to see two men riding worn out looking horses on the trail that ran in front of his yard. His heart leaped immediately as he recognized his old boyhood acquaintances, Lou Ferretti and Dave Siler. Daniel immediately put the ax down against the cabin wall and hurried out to the opening in the split rail fence that surrounded the yard. “Ho, friends! Welcome! Welcome home.”

Ferretti’s bay gelding stopped of it’s own accord when Daniel approached them. “Daniel? Is that you, boy?” A warm smile split the man’s face. “It’s sure good to see you again.”

Seeing them up close, Daniel noticed that they looked as tired and worn as their horses. “And you my friend.” He smiled a welcoming greeting up at him and reached to clasp hands with his old acquaintance. “Get down. Let me get you some water from the well. Are you hungry?”

Ferretti glanced over at his saddle partner. Siler sat silently slumped over in his saddle. 

Daniel went over to his other friend and put his hand on the older man‘s let to get his attention. “Siler?” Finally the thin, worn man looked at him. “Siler,” The younger man said softly. “Will you get down and visit?”

Siler looked at him for a moment before reacting to his presence. “Daniel?”

“Yes?” Daniel smiled a welcome, took the man’s horse’s reins in one hand and reached up with the other.

The tall man straightened on his horse and looked around. “We’re here?” The man seemed a little confused.

“You’re at my cabin, get down and eat.” Daniel answered him gently.

Siler looked down at him, recognition dawning on the man’s tired face . “That’d be mighty fine, Daniel, mighty fine.”

Sometime later, after a simple meal of fried ham and bread, the men started to recouperate a bit and talk. They were headed back to Texas, back to San Antonio to find out about their jobs as Texas Rangers now that they were back from the war. As they spoke of their experiences in the army, Daniel could only shake his head at their stories of horror and bloodshed. He grew quiet as they talked, thinking of someone else that had gone...and had not yet returned. Finally, he could wait no longer. “Lou, have you seen Jack?” Daniel asked softly. “Do you know where he is?”

The ex-soldier could only shake his head. “Honestly, Daniel, I couldn’t say. I haven’t seen him since the battle of Cedar Creek last October.”

Siler looked at the young man sadly. “He was shot, Daniel. His horse went down and we tried to go to him.... But the fighting shifted...the Rebs took the ground where he was at.”

The officer picked up the thread from the sergeant, “We looked for him after...but we couldn’t find him.” Ferretti sighed, “We found his horse, gut shot, and I put him out of his misery. But, well, we never saw the Captain again.” Lou reached over and patted the young man’s knee in sympathy. 

“But, you didn’t see his body?” Daniel commented softly.

“No, I didn’t.” Ferretti replied, sadly.

“We heard that he’d been captured,” Siler spoke up softly. “Taken prisoner and gone to Andersonville but...”

Daniel looked up hopefully, “What is Andersonville? Where is it?”

Ferretti looked at him curiously. “Well, Daniel, it’s a town in Georgia. They have, well, they had a prison there for captured enemy soldiers. But Daniel, for all I’ve heard, it’s a hellhole.” Lou continued on, shaking his head at the youngster. “ Most wounded men died there, and I never heard him spoke of. Nobody even mentioned his name.”

“But you never heard he died there?” Daniel looked at the men solemnly.

Ferretti looked over at Siler who only shrugged his shoulders. “No, we never heard that.”

*******

The next morning, Daniel knocked on the doorway that led into his grandfather’s cabin. A-ga-ta-na-i We-ha-li (Wise Eagle) called out in a quavering voice. The young man answered, ducked under the low doorway and approached the elderly Indian.

“Ho, Ni-ta Wa-ya.” (Young Coyote) Wise Eagle greeted his young Grandson. He noted the young one was uncharacteristically quiet this day.

“Ho, E-ni-si.” (Grandfather)

“Sit and eat.” The elderly man indicated the shelves over the wood stove. 

“I do not hunger for food, Grandfather. I come for your wisdom.” Daniel pulled up a low stool next to the old man and sat down.

“That is a cheap price for your company, Grandson.”

“That it is freely given does not diminish its value.”

The elderly man peered down at his adopted white grandson. “What wisdom do you seek from me today, Wa-ya?

After the fashion of his people, Daniel spoke directly. “Grandfather, the war in the east is over. I saw Ferretti and Siler on the road to Tejas. Ta-wa-di (Hawk) was not with them.”

The old man nodded looking at his grandsons’ face. “Did they say where the Hawk is?”

Daniel nodded. “Ferretti says he must be dead. They saw him captured during a great battle and have not heard of him since.”

“But you do not believe this is so?” He looked at the young man at his feet.

“No, Grandfather, I do not. Siler said he was taken to a prison. The Hawk does not die so easily, I think.”

“Maybe, but to cage a hawk...” Wise Eagle looked sadly at the young man. “is not a good thing to do.”

“A hawk may be freed, Grandfather.”

“So,” the old man looked at him with his sharp eyes, knowing what must come. “You are going.”

“Yes, Grandfather, I want to.”

“No, You have to. But,” He raised his hand in warning, “but do not be disappointed when you find a grave at the end of your journey.”

“I will not, Grandfather. But, I must know.” Daniel spoke softly at the knowledge of this truth.

The old Indian sat a long time in thought, then finally spoke. “Coyote, you have lost much in your short life. First your white parents, then your Indian brother and your young wife. You do not want to lose your friend, Hawk. But he may also have gone under. Do not break your heart again.”

“And he may be hurt with no one to look after him and no way to send for someone.”

“Or he may not want to come.”

Of that Daniel was sure. “He would come.”

“Yes, I think he would.” The old man nodded at his grandson. “When do you go?”

“I will go tomorrow. I go to my father’s house to give the cabin to him.”

The old man looked at him thoughtfully. “To succeed you must do two things. First, put aside your buckskins. You must wear white man’s clothing.” At Daniel’s nod of understanding this, he continued. “Do not take the spotted pony. Take the red mare and the brown pony.”

Daniel looked at him in confusion. “Yes, Grandfather. But, why?”

“You will go amongst the white man. The spotted pony is too young; he would not understand the ways of the people you will meet. And they will want him; you will not be able to stop them from taking him. The brown pony is plain but wise in the ways of the white villages; he will carry a pack or pull a travois. The red mare is strong and fast, she will carry you safely in your journey. They will be your friends. Do not sell, trade or allow them to be taken from you.” Wise Eagle held the young man’s eyes with his. “They will know the way home, for both Coyote and Hawk.” 

The young man saw that his Grandfather was wise. Feather would be in danger of theft. The other two would be better trained and less conspicuous during his journey. He would do as he said.

*******

 

Daniel Jackson stopped his two ponies and looked down the long dirt road that led to a shallow valley. It was the end of his long journey. He had been traveling for almost two months, finding his way by following the morning sun and asking directions. He reckoned that he had come more than a thousand miles but he was finally here. He just hoped that he wasn’t too late.

He had stopped at the town several miles down the road and had confirmed that it was indeed Andersonville. A kindly storekeeper had given him directions to the prison where the Union soldiers had been kept. The man had shaken his head and wished him luck. Now that he was here, he was almost afraid to go to the enclosure. The whole trip was for the purpose of finding his friend, Jack O‘Neill. If O’Neill were dead it would have all been for nothing. Daniel wasn’t sure he could deal with another loss in his life but he must find the truth of it.

But if Jack needed his help, he would do the man no good if he didn’t find him. So he kneed the red mare forward and they followed the muddy dirt road towards the stockade enclosure he could see in the distance.

As they approached, Daniel saw with sinking heart that the place was empty. The gates sagged open revealing an open field still littered with the detritus of man. Sticks, canvas, and wooden framework were in various stages of deterioration and rot. What had once been a stream stank of human waste. The two horses snorted at the stench and filth they were treading on as they entered the encampment. There was nothing here. He was too late.

He turned his horses and rode out the unhinged and sagging gate. Surely, there must have been records kept, or someone with knowledge of the men who had lived, suffered and died here. Their names should not have been lost, to die here so alone and unremarked.

“Dey ain’t no one lef here, Suh.” A voice seemingly came out of nowhere. “Dey don lef out or been took out.”

He turned around in the saddle and looked back at a corpse of trees. He saw an ancient black man limping towards him. “Where were they taken?” Daniel asked the man that had spoken to him. He was coming down the hill, limping profoundly, and using a carved stick as a cane.

“Dey’s eder taken to de cemetery,” he pointed broadly to another portion of the valley, “or dey taken to de hors-pital.”

“This horse-pital, is it a place of healing?” The young man dismounted, and led the ponies forward to meet him.

The elderly man halted at his approach. “Fer some, fer some hit’s only a place to give up de rest of dey lifs.” He shook his head. “Whar you from, white boy? How comes you want ta know bout dat place?”

Daniel smiled slightly. It was the first time he’d been called white since he’d crossed the Mississippi River. “I’ve come from the Cher-ro-kee Nation in the west. I come looking for a friend who was here. Would you know...”?

“Naw suh, I shore don know nuthin bout this place cept it was bad misserble.” The man leaned heavily on his stick cane. “We watched ‘em take out the Yankee soldiers when de war ended. Mostly, they lets ‘em go. Some they just took ‘em to de cemetery.” He shook his head. “Only a few went dat way.” He pointed on down the road with his cane. “And dey stink o death.” The old man looked up at the tall youngster. “You’d best be gitting back to your Injuns, boy. Dey ain’t nuthin here for you.”

“If you cannot help me, then I have to go without it.” He turned and swung up on the mare. 

“Boy, if you go to that hors-pital place, you be kerful. There’s sickness there, you be kerful and don ketch it none. Hit‘s the devils own work.”

 

*******

Daniel followed the man in uniform down the narrow, dark hallway. There were rooms on either side, some with doors, some not. In each room on a pallet or blankets or perhaps an old rotting mattress lay a skeleton of what had used to be a human being. Some were injured, some sick and some he was sure, was all ready dead.

He felt guilty to be healthy here.

Finally, the Steward pointed to another hallway. “In heah, there are some Yankee Officers. I don’t recollect their names ifn I ever knew them. But ifn he is heah, he’d be one o’ them.” Daniel nodded, and started forward. The man did not accompany him. He glanced into the first room; the man there was small and dark almost Spanish looking. In the next room was a red haired man, the next an old bald man who he was sure was dead by the smell and the flies. 

Finally, in the last room, he saw what he was afraid he’d find. 

The man lay on a layer of woolen horse blankets. At least Daniel thought it was his friend, but the change was so dramatic, it had taken him a moment to recognize him. A tall man, Jack O’Neill had always been slender, now he was emaciated. He appeared so much smaller than Daniel remembered him, but the profile was the same and the scar across the eyebrow familiar. The light sandy hair had faded to a mousy brown color liberally flecked with gray. Daniel approached him fearing at first that he was dead. But as the young man drew closer, he could see the thin chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.

He knelt on the floor next to the sick man. “Jack? Jack O’Neill. It’s me, Daniel. I’ve come to take you home.” He reached out and touched Jack’s hair. It was stiff and harsh with dirt. As he drew his fingers across his friend’s forehead, the man turned slightly to look vacantly up at Daniel. "Jack, do you know me? Do you remember who I am?"

The dark brown eyes focused on his face, as if trying to read a difficult script. They blinked, once, twice then a flicker of recognition. 

"Jack, its Daniel Jackson. I've come for you."

Jack frowned, as if in concentration. His mouth moved, but no sound came.

Daniel put his hand on the rough unshaven cheek, "Jack."

Finally, a soft whisper, "Daniel?'

"Yes, Jack. It's Daniel."

Tears filled the older man's eyes, "Danny, you dead too?"

Daniel smiled through his own tears and grasped the older man‘s hand that lay on top of the filthy blanket. "No, Jack. I'm alive. You are alive. I've come to take you home."

"Home?"

"Yes, da-ni-ta-ga (blood brother), I've come to take you home, to the tsi-da-na-lu (family).

"My a-do-nv-do? (spirit)

"Tla, ta-wa-di. Ne-hi." (No, Hawk. You.). He leaned over his friend, so the man could see him clearly and know he was real. “I will go and prepare the horses.” He stroked his friend’s face again before he stood up. “I will be back in a short time.”

Daniel stood up, regretfully releasing Jack’s hand. At the older man‘s forlorn expression he said, “Do not worry, I will come back.” He could feel the brown eyes follow him as he turned and left the room.

Going to where the attendant had returned to his office, Daniel entered without knocking. “I have found him. We will go now.”

The man looked at him without concern. “You know he’s got the sickness.” He stated with an unconcerned look. “That’s why he’s here. You take him, he’ll die and most likely you too.”

Daniel looked at him with disdain. “I know he is ill, but it is an illness of bad water and worse food. I will take him and he will live. I leave him here, he will die.”

“Suit yerownself, boy.” He took in the tall, young man, standing there with determination in his blue eyes. “It don’t make me no nevermind. My job is to watch ‘em til they die. That’s why they’re here, so they kin git them peace and care until they no longer need it. If they was gonna get well, they’d uh took ‘em when they opened the camp. I’m jest a saying...he’s gonna die.”

The young man didn’t reply to his words. He merely nodded. “I will make a travois, and we will leave in a short while.”

The man nodded and looked down at his ledger. He didn’t look up as he heard the door close. 

Daniel left the stinking building and went to his two horses. Untying them, he took them up the road away to a wooded area not far from the hospital. He scanned the trees until he found what he was looking for, then took his skinning knife out of his belt. Dropping the reins, he cut down the two saplings he’d chosen and pared the small limbs off leaving them as poles. He drug them over to the brown gelding. Using rawhide from his pack, he secured the lengths of wood to the pommel and stirrup leathers of the old macheer saddle. Then he pulled out the canvas he had been using for his wickiup and secured it with more of the leather lashings. The pony stood patiently. He had pulled the Indian sleds before and knew what was to come. Once Daniel had finished, he led the two horses back to the front door of the building.

The Steward met him at the porch and followed him silently as the young man strode quickly into the building and down the hallway. Without hesitation, Daniel went to the room where his friend lay. Jack had fallen asleep again, the failing sunlight filtering in through the filthy window emphasizing his wasted frame and gaunt face. “How ya gonna git him out to tha hoss?” the man asked unconcernedly.

Daniel ignored him completely, knelt down by the filthy pallet and uncovered O’Neill. The man’s clothing was as dirty as the surrounding blankets. One leg of the trousers had been split up the side to Jack’s hip, revealing an encrusted bandage tied around the swollen knee. It had obviously been on the wound a long time. The young man closed his eyes for a moment, consciously willing himself to not strike the man who was lolling in the doorway, the man who was supposed to have been caring for the suffering men in his charge. 

When he managed to quell his anger enough to resist a killing, he slipped his arms under O’Neill’s shoulders and legs. Standing up, lifting the slight weight of the wasted body of his friend, he turned and carried him out of the dark room, out of the stinking building, out of imprisonment, out of the nightmare and out into the late afternoon sunshine of freedom.

The two horses raised their heads and pricked their ears at their young master and his burden. The red mare snorted at the unfamiliar smell but Brown pony recognized the odor of sickness and lowered his head to see what his responsibility would be. He had done this before for many other warriors, this was merely one more. 

Daniel lay O’Neill down onto the canvas bed of the travois. He adjusted the limp body of his friend to a comfortable position and then carefully covered him with a blanket and secured him to the sled so he wouldn’t shift position. 

Once he was satisfied that his friend was as safe and comfortable as he could make him for now, Daniel turned and picked up the reins to both horses and started to lead them towards the road.

“Where you a’goin now?” The Steward called after him.

“As far away from here as I can get.” Daniel called back to the man as he mounted the red mare and led them all away.

*******

An hour later as the sun was beginning to set; Daniel stopped the horses in a clearing off the road. A small stream of clean clear water sparked through a rocky bed. there he began to set up camp. They had traveled continuously since they left the hospital; he had wanted to get Jack as far away from the sight and smell of the foul buildings that he had spent too much of his life and spirit at. The evening sky was clear and by the light of a full moon, he got a fire going and the blankets spread out under the shelter of the trees. When the water boiled he made some coffee and started some jerky boiling to serve as a soup broth. He had to get fluids and nourishment into Jack so the man could gather his strength to throw off his body’s sickness. Daniel also knew that tomorrow he would have to find a safe place to set up a semi-permanent camp for his friend to rest and recuperate. Jack was in no way able to travel in this condition.

Daniel moved his friend to the makeshift bed and Jack woke momentarily at the handling. Daniel soothed him back to sleep with his voice. Tomorrow, when he had the light, he would have to find a way to clean him and take proper care of his wounds. 

*******

The next day dawned bright and clear. It was going to be a warm day, and he had a lot to do. Jack was still in his semi-conscious state, lying quietly in the gentle dappling of morning sunlight. Daniel boiled some water for coffee and started a pot of beans to cook. Breakfast for him was some tortillas that he made with some of the boiled jerky in them. Later he would search for other foods in the woods and perhaps hunt for meat, but he didn’t want to leave Jack alone for that long a time yet.

After he finished eating, he emptied the coffeepot and built up the fire again to heat some more water. Then, he followed the little stream down a way until he found what he was looking for, a bee tree with a hive in its trunk. Returning to the camp he checked on Jack. The man was still sleeping. Daniel pulled a burning log out of the flames and then returned to the hive, carrying it carefully. Covering as much of his face as he could with a bandana, he started smoking the bees into a stupor using the smoldering limb. After a short while he was able to rob them of a little of their hard-earned honey. Carefully wrapping the sticky runny honeycomb into a clean bandana he had brought for this purpose, he returned back to the campfire. The water in the coffeepot was boiling so he took it off the fire. Now, he was ready.

Daniel uncovered the sleeping man and proceeded to cut the ragged garments from Jack’s too thin body. He waited awhile for the hot water to cool and added enough of the boiled water left from last night to make it comfortable. The medicine man from the village had taught his pupils that the sacred fire’s heat purified the water and made it safer. Then Daniel tore his oldest shirt into pieces and began to clean the dirt from his friend’s abused body. At the first touch of the wet rag, Jack appeared to wake up but he didn’t say anything. He just watched Daniel through slitted eyes, as if he didn’t believe any of it to be real. He finished bathing his friend and then cleaned and treated some of the minor injuries. After he dressed the unresponsive man in one of his extra shirts and a makeshift breechclout, Daniel began to meticulously clean the large infected gunshot wound on Jack’s leg. He used much warmer water there to soak and remove as much of the dead flesh from the wound as he could. Once he was satisfied with his work, Daniel pounded the honeycomb in its bandana to make a poultice. This he applied to the raw oozing wound then wrapped it in more clean cloths. He then gently covered his friend’s body again and went back to the fire to tend the cooking beans and to boil more water.

All his chores completed, Daniel sat down on a log he had drawn up to the fire as a seat and ate his own meal and drank a cup of coffee. He was tired from the stress of his initial treatment of the wound. Daniel knew if the man hadn’t been Jack O’Neill, he would have not survived this long. But he also had confidence that Ta-wa-di, the hawk, would fly free again.

 

Later that day, when the food was cooked, Daniel went to try to wake his friend. Jack had been in and out of consciousness all afternoon. Once, the young man had thought that he had stopped breathing, but it was just very shallow as if the abused body of his sick friend was using as little energy as possible. He hated to wake him, but Daniel knew he had to eat and drink or Jack’s body would simply quit.

Then he put the pot back on to boil more of the water. He put some small pieces of jerky in the liquid and covered it with the other plate. After it had boiled for a short while, he poured some of the liquid and the meat into the cup. He carried it back to where Jack lay and offered the warm liquid to the man.

“Jack, you must awake and eat.” He patted the thin face gently. “Jack. Wake up for me.”  
Finally, after much coaxing, the older man seemed to fight his way back from a long distance. “Jack, it’s me Daniel.”

“Daniel?” The dark brown eyes opened and focused on him with a quizzical look. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned down so he could hear Jack more clearly. “I came to get you. Ferretti and Siler came through the village, Jack. They said you’d been wounded at a battle called Cedar Creek. When you didn’t come home to us, I came looking.” He put his hand on his friend’s cheek, not only to judge his fever, but to feel his spirit.

“Where...where are we?” O’Neill asked confusedly.

“I don’t know a name; it is out from the road so that no one will bother us.”

“Town?”

“Outside of Andersonville.” Daniel turned to pick up the cup of water. “You must drink, Jack.”

“Andersonville?” He managed before he took a swallow of the broth.

“Shush, now. You must drink a little at least.” He coaxed the older man into a few more sips. 

Jack shook his head and closed his eyes. “So, tired.” He murmured. “I’m just so tired.”

Daniel put the cup to him again. “Drink a little more for me, Jack.”

“All right, I am thirsty.” He admitted and managed a little more of the warm liquid. But his strength failed him and exhausted, he lay back on the blankets. “No, I don’t want anymore.” Jack murmured at his attentions. “Just leave me as I am.”

Daniel looked at him in dismay then hardened his voice. “Hear me, Ta-wa-di. I did not ride my ponies for forty days across the great river and into this place to watch you die in my camp. I came to get you and take you home. You must drink this and grow strong.”

Jack managed to open his eyes again at the tone of his young friend’s voice. “What?”

“Drink!“ Daniel supported the older man’s head to help him drink the broth. 

Jack obeyed the order without question, finishing almost the whole cup. Then he lay back against the blankets, looking up at Daniel with bewilderment etched on his face. 

The younger man studied him, searching, hoping for something. “Jack, what do you want?”

The eyebrows knitted together. “Daniel?”

Daniel smiled, “Yes, Jack. It’s Daniel. How do you feel?”

“Daniel, I don’t...how did...” He looked perplexed.

“I came; it’s all right. You’re ill, but you’ll get well.” He soothed his friend with voice and hand. “Just know this, you’re with me...you’re safe.”

Jack nodded, accepting, his eyes closing.

Daniel sat by his friend for a time, watching the older man sleep. Finally, he had to go and collect more wood for the fire. As he began to move around, he saw someone hiding in the trees. Daniel casually went to the edge of the clearing and bent as if to pick up a broken branch. He then slipped into the trees and circled back around, drawing his pistol from its holster. When he saw whom the person was he allowed it to return to its holster. 

The old black man that had given him directions to the hospital was standing on the exposed side of the tree, peering into the clearing. He was looking for Daniel.

“What do you want, old man?” Daniel asked quietly.

The man tuned around using his crutch for balance and looked at him suspiciously. “I was looking fer you, white boy.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Jest to see ifn I’se right.”

Daniel nodded. “You were.” He indicated the camp. “Do you want to eat?”

The man looked surprised at the invitation. “Eat?’

“I have food; do you want to eat?”

“I could eat a bite.” He pointed at the sleeping man at the fire’s edge. “He don’t got the sickness, do he?”

“No, he’s only ill from an old wound, no food and neglect. You cannot catch his sickness.” Daniel assured him. “He will be well in time.”

“Well, that’s fine, jest fine.” the old man looked up a Daniel. “You some kinda med-cine man?”

Daniel smiled down at him and motioned for him to follow. “No, only a friend.” He led the way into the camp. 

When the old man had settled himself down on a log, Daniel dished him out a plate of beans and handed him a tortilla that he’d made earlier. His guest started eating with gusto.

Daniel went over and laid a hand on the sleeping man’s forehead. He frowned; the fever hadn’t broken yet. He needed to get better food for Jack, but he couldn’t leave him alone long enough to hunt. He glanced over at the old man sitting at his fire, wondering if he could trust him. “What is your name?”

“Dey called me Caesar when I was a young un, but when I got old dey called me ole Mose.” The man smiled at the young man.

“Which do you prefer?” Daniel asked curiously.

“Hit don matter to me.” The man answered easily. “You kin call me anything you wants.”

“All right, Moses. I am called Daniel,” He indicated the sleeping man. “This is Jack.” He thought a while. “Moses, I have to hunt for fresh meat. Will you stay with him?”

The man nodded. “I kin stay till tonight, den I gots to go.”

“Good, just keep the fire going and the beans from boiling out and burning. I’ll be back soon. 

*******

In a few hours, Daniel had returned to camp with a raccoon. Moses was still there, tending the fire. He watched the hunter begin to skin the animal.

“You gonna eat dat?”

He looked up at the old man. “Yes.” He replied. “The gv-li will give us meat for dinner.” 

Moses looked at him, “You not a reg'lar white man is you?”

Daniel had to smile. “No, I suppose not.”

Old Moses returned it. “I got a frend. I’m gonna go see him tomorry. Maybe he kin git you all a place to stay that’s safe.”

Daniel looked up and nodded as he finished the chore. “Moses, do you know someone who can use this skin?” At the man’s nod, he rolled it up the raw layer inside. “I cannot tan it here; maybe it will serve someone else.”

Moses accepted the pelt. “I’m gonna sent you someone tomorry. You jest wait, young Daniel. You’ll see.”

*******

That afternoon, Daniel had prepared the meat with some wild onions he’d found and some of his precious salt. They couldn’t remain here much longer with Jack as sick as he was. Earlier he’d gone and robbed the bee tree again, pulling another piece of the honeycomb out. This time he got enough to use as a sweetener on their food and in their coffee.

He boiled the water again and wiped his friend’s still feverish body down. Jack was awake this time and was able to move around a bit on Daniel’s instructions, making him easier to tend to so intimately. Finally, when he was settled back into the bedroll, the gruesome wound was unwrapped, cleaned and treated again. It was still angry and red, but Daniel knew the infection would take a long time to draw out, though he thought it did look a little better. It would be a slow healing process. After the nerve-racking procedure, both of the men needed rest. He banked the fire and spread his bedroll next to his friend, trusting the horses to warm him if anyone approached the camp.

*******

The next day, Daniel was preparing the noon meal when he heard what sounded like a heavy wagon coming towards their campsite. Someone with a deep male voice spoke to the team. Then he heard light footsteps coming towards their campsite. Finally, an unfamiliar feminine voice called out. “Daniel? Are you there? Daniel?”

He stood up, with his pistol in his hand. No one but Moses knew he was here. It must be his friends. “Over here, here by the creek.” He answered

The brush parted to reveal a tall, slender woman. She appeared to be a little older than he, with blonde hair caught up in braids. She was wearing a severe light blue dress that appeared clean but worn. When she finally saw him, she smiled. “You must be Daniel.” At his nod, she continued. “My name is Samantha Carter. Old Mose came and told us you needed help with your friend, that he was sick.” She looked around him. “Is that him? What’s wrong with him?”

Daniel looked at her carefully. "My name is Daniel Jackson." He indicated the sleeping man behind him. That‘s Jack O‘Neill. I just got him out of the tsu-ni-tlv-gi--u-na-ni-tlv-di.” He frowned at his difficulty with the language barrier. “The sick people house.”

The woman started towards where Jack lay. Daniel stepped in front of her. She looked at him unhappily. "I can't help him unless you let me."

"I don't know who you are." The young man replied firmly. "Jack has had quite enough help from people here, as you can see."

She looked at him in confusion. "I thought you wanted help.”

Daniel was torn. This woman was offering to help, but he didn’t know her enough to trust her totally. “I need shelter for him. He will not be able to travel for several weeks. I can care for him, but I need to be able to leave him in a safe dry place when I hunt for meat.”

She smiled at him. “I understand, you’re not from here. What went on in the sick house, the hospital, is not normal. Nothing is normal here anymore.” She looked at the ill man. “He was one of the prisoners at Camp Sumter wasn’t he?”

“I don’t know what it was called, but yes he was there.” Daniel nodded. “Then, they left him at the hos-pi-tal. I found him there.” Making a decision he stepped back and allowed her to pass but followed and watched her closely. “The man said he would die. He will not.”

She knelt down next to Jack then looked up from the man to his rescuer. “He is very weak. What’s wrong with him?”

“As you see. He was starved, and has an infected wound. But he does not have the rotting sickness yet and he still has his teeth and hair so he is not too close to death.”

She nodded beginning to be able to follow his speech pattern. “No cholera, or scurvy yet and no gangrene yet.”

“Miss Carter...”

“Call me Sam.” She stood up. “We can take you to my farm. There’s only me and Teal’c there now, there’s plenty of room. I can put your friend in a bed, and we have some vegetables from the garden and some medicinal herbs for the wound. You say you can hunt?” At Daniel’s nod she continued. “There’s hardly any game left, most people hunted it out during the war but there’s varmints that can be shot and eaten if you can kill them. It would be a fair trade for me.”

“I can pay a little,” Daniel agreed. “I think a month, for Jack to grow strong enough to travel. Then we will go.”

“Fair enough.” Sam Carter stood up and nodded. “I have a wagon. If we leave now you can sleep in a bed tonight.” At his nod, she went to the edge of the clearing. “Teal’c, please come and help us.”

“Yes, Samantha.” The deep booming voice answered her. A very large black man came into the clearing at her call. He was over six foot four and weighed around two hundred and fifty pounds at Daniel’s guess. Daniel was tall at six foot, but this man dwarfed him in both size and girth. He looked around at the campsite. “Are they coming with us?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Can we get the wagon closer? So we can break camp now and get them home with us.”

Teal’c nodded and went back through the trees to bring a mismatched team of an old mare and a small mule pulling a large buckboard into the campsite. Daniel looked at the mare, she was obviously pregnant, her belly swollen with the foal, even though her hips and spine protruded and every rib could be counted.

“She should not be working this late.” Daniel commented.

Sam nodded. “I know, but these are the only two animals that they left me. Dolly here is old and due in a few more weeks, and Lilly was too small for them to want for their army.” She shrugged. “They took the other horses and mules.”

The young man nodded. “She is healthy though, could be fatter.” He glanced back at his two ponies. “I would offer them to help, but they are not broke to harness.”

“It’s not far,” Teal’c assured him. “I would not overwork her. The colt will be of value to Samantha.”

Daniel nodded. “You were a slave?” he asked.

“Her father owned me. He was a good enough master, not like some. When the war was over and we were all set free I was to go to seek a ship, to go back to my home; but I saw that she was alone and unprotected. I will only stay until she is safe. Then I will go.”

Sam smiled at Daniel’s expression. “Teal’c was a slave when I came back to my father’s farm, but now he is my friend. Without him....” She shrugged. “Well, when the others came I would have lost...everything.”

“The others?”

She turned her face to hide the tears. Teal’c replied for her. “Men who come only out of greed can only do evil.” “They hold nothing sacred.”

Daniel nodded, knowing what can happen to a woman alone and unprotected. “I understand.”

*******

After packing up the campsite and thoroughly dousing the fire they were finally ready to move O’Neill to the wagon. Daniel had wrapped his friend in a blanket to protect him from the cool of the late afternoon and shield his semi-clothed state from the view of strangers. The huge Teal'c gently picked up the sick man and carefully placed him into the wagon's bed now padded with the canvas and blankets from his bedroll. Daniel tied his two ponies to the back of the wagon and got up in the bed with him where he could support Jack's head and shoulders against the rough ride. Sam and Teal'c climbed up to the seat of the buckboard and started the mismatched team back down the rutted bumpy dirt road.

Since Teal'c was handling the reins, Sam turned back around to look down upon the passengers. "Daniel," she spoke his name, and he looked up at her curious face. "Where are you from? You don't speak like a northerner; in fact, your accent is unlike any I've heard recently."

He looked down onto his friend's face. "I am from Oklahoma, of the Cherokee Nation." 

"And he is?" She prompted, following his gaze to the other man.

"He is Jack O'Neill. When I met him, he was a Texas Ranger. He came back east to fight in your white man's war."

"Did you come too?"

"No, I stayed with my people. I tried to get him to stay with us, but he said he could help and that he must go back. He said he would return, but the others came back and he did not come"

"So you came looking for him…" She asked softly, "How did you know where to come?"

Two of his company came through our lands on the way back. They said he had been taken at the Battle of Cedar Creek. I went there and I tracked him. I found him at that place. He was dying. I took him so that he would not die, or if he did, it would be with the sun on his face."  
She nodded. 

Then Teal'c spoke in his deep voice. "It is a good thing, to die free." 

Daniel looked back down at his friend and stroked the dirty gray hair. He nodded and replied. “Ta-wo-di dv-ga a-se-quu-i.”

Sam looked at the young man curiously. "What does that mean?"

"The hawk must fly free."

*******

They arrived at the Carter place. Daniel was a little surprised at the size of the grounds and the house. It was a mansion to him, the largest house he had ever seen with its two stories and double doorway. 

Teal’c halted the team at the front door, and climbed down, moving to the back of the wagon where he where he effortlessly lifted the still sleeping O'Neill from the blankets. Sam had climbed down from the wagon by herself, then led the others into the house and up a flight of stairs. "We can put him in father's room." She opened the door into a large airy room with a huge four-poster bed in the middle of the floor. Sam turned down the comforter and stepped back while the big man lay his burden down onto the mattress. She turned back to Daniel. "It's large enough that we can put a mattress on the floor for you to stay with him at night, if you would like."

"As large as that bed is, I don't see the need. I will share it with him."

"Are you sure?" Carter looked at him curiously. "Don’t take this wrong but he is dirty, and he may have a disease."

Daniel only shrugged. "So am I, and the only sickness he has is of bad treatment and weakness."

"How can you be so sure?"

"If he had one, he would be dead already."

"Well, tomorrow, we'll get the hipbath down and we can heat water for it. You and Teal'c can give him a bath. He'll be the better for it."

"Good, I can get his infected leg clean." Daniel fussed with the pillows.

"How bad is the leg?" She asked.

"It is where he was shot. He has carried the wound since the battle I think, and it will not heal. I have started to treat it, but he will need much time to go strong again.” 

“How are you treating it?” Samantha asked, “What are you using?”

“I clean the dead flesh from it and put a poultice of honey on it.” He replied. “I must do it again tonight.”

“Honey?” 

Teal’c nodded from where he was watching and listening. “I remember. The old healing woman in my village used it on poisoned wounds. They never became rotten.”

Daniel nodded. “My Indian mother used it on me when I was gored by a javalina. It keeps the bad spirits away.”

Samantha only shook her head in amazement as she listened to the two men discussing their own medicines yet agreeing on a treatment for the wounded and sick man. “I can see I can learn a lot from you two.”


	2. Part 2

The next morning, Daniel awoke from a deep sleep in a soft, feather bed. It took him a moment to realize he was lying next to Jack in the large, airy bedroom at the Carter farm. While Sam insisted that the house was in no way large enough to be considered a mansion, it was still a very impressive home to him. It even seemed larger because there was no one else in residence except Samantha and her friend Teal’c, the former slave. 

He had just climbed out of the huge four poster bed and pulled on his trousers when there was a tap at the door. At his answer, Sam came into the room. He slipped his worn leather shirt on over his head and padded around the bed to open the door for her. She was carrying a tray with breakfast on it for him, eggs, grits, and some bread. He accepted the meal gratefully, taking the tray and setting it on the small table by the large brick fireplace. He picked up a piece of the bread and followed her to the bedside where Jack lay still asleep.

“How is he this morning?” She asked softly, laying a hand on Jack’s forehead to judge if he still had a fever. “He feels warm.”

Daniel nodded. “The fever is still there. It will be until the infection is gone.”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s the body’s way of fighting the poison.” Sam glanced up at the young man standing beside her, watching her movements. “Do you think he is well enough to be bathed? Teal’c can bring the tub up and we can heat the water in the hearth.” She indicated the fireplace. 

“If he were only a few days dirty I would say no.” Daniel looked at her. “But several months dirty is too much. He will feel better for the wash, I think.”

She nodded, I’ll get Teal’c. He can carry it up.”

“I will help him; it must be heavy for one man.” He glanced at the door. “Where would I find him?”

“In the back of the house, I will show you. But first we must light the fire. I’ll bring the water up as you carry the tub. It will be warm enough by the time everything is ready. Then you and Teal’c can bath him.” She smiled at the young man, “perhaps there will be enough water for you to take a bath also.”

Daniel shook his head. “I can bathe in the creek. Don’t worry about me.”

Sam looked at him with confusion. “But everything will be in place; it would be silly not to take advantage of it. Then, this evening, after you men finish with it; we can move it into the bedroom that’s not being used. That way, he can use it again as the knee heals. Its a little bit more trouble to bring the water up the stairs, but it will be awhile before he can walk down them.”

The young man saw the logic, and he also realized that she was the first other person who believed that Jack would be alive and walking soon. “Thank you, for him, for having faith in him.” Daniel said softly, “for believing in him.”

“I don’t think he’d dare disappoint you, Daniel Jackson.” She smiled at him. “I wouldn’t.” 

*******

After the two men wrestled the large iron tub up the staircase, Daniel was almost sure it would have been easier to carry Jack down to it. But Sam was right, it would be easier in the long run, and when Jack did become mobile, it would afford the man his privacy a lot quicker for the bath to be upstairs. Luckily Teal’c had helped care for sick and injured men before and had some knowledge in handling them. Jack remained in a semi-conscious state much of the time. He would respond to Daniel’s voice, but the younger man was unsure how much his friend actually understood of what was going on around him. Daniel believed it was as much a mental condition as a physical one that Jack had done to himself to allow him to survive the horrors of the camp and then the hospital.

Sam had been busy bringing a large caldron up to the fireplace in the master bedroom, laying a fire then toting several buckets of clean well water up to be heated. She had also found a straight razor, and some good soap she said that was for hair and beard. And of course the stronger stuff for filthy skin. After she was satisfied they had all they needed; she stripped the soiled sheets from the bed and excused herself so they could bathe the injured man in privacy.

Teal’c had easily lifted Jack from the bed and after Sam left the room, they removed what clothes Daniel had dressed him in while caring for him in the camp. When he was placed in the hip tub, they kept the injured knee elevated so that the soiled bath water didn’t make contact with the injury. It was still horrible to see, and had produced much drainage with more of the poisoned dead flesh sloughing off in the process of healing. 

“It needs maggots, young Daniel,” Teal’c commented grimly, “they would take the meat off quicker.” 

Daniel examined the injury. “I’m not sure friend Teal’c. I have seen that done, but they also take the good flesh. I do not want to cripple him.”

The big man nodded. “True, we can wait. The honey is working well so far. Once we get it properly cleaned and treated, we can watch it closely.” As they worked with soft rags of Turkish toweling across O’Neill’s naked body, they discovered other smaller canker sores caused by lying in bed unattended and filthy. “I will gather some Aloe Vera plants for these smaller places.” Teal’c spoke at Daniel’s distraught expression. “It will sooth them as well, and we do not risk the bee’s stings to get it.” He smiled at the younger man. “I will get enough for your hands and face also.”

Daniel managed a smile at Teal'cs offer, “Good.” He glanced down at his bare arms, his having removed the leather shirt to keep it dry. The red welts of the bee stings were more obvious with their immersion in the hot water.

There was a tapping on the door, and Sam entered carrying items of clothing. “Sorry, to come in,” she stated. “But here is one of my father’s nightshirts for your friend, a Turkish sheet to dry him with, and the honeycomb for his leg.” She put the items down on the bureau. “How does the wound look?” 

“It is very bad and will be slow to heal, but it has had a long time to worsen.“ Teal’c replied, “We can only hope that it will not cripple him.” The large man looked up at the young woman, his ex-master’s daughter and now his friend. “Samantha, could you get some of the aloe salve also, for his lesser sores?”

“Certainly,” she replied wanting to be useful. “I’ll bring enough for Daniel also.”

After the bath was complete, they tended O’Neill’s leg with the honeycomb poultice again and his bedsores with the soothing salve. Teal’c carefully shaved Jack’s beard and cut his hair with the sharp razor. Then, dressing him in the clean, cotton nightshirt and bedding him down on clean sheets their task was complete. It had taken most of the afternoon, and Daniel looked exhausted from the stress of caring for his friend. 

Sam had been in and out during all the procedures, careful to turn her eyes from the nude patient’s form. But she had been very impressed by the tender care that this rather strange young man was treating his injured comrade with. It was obvious that Daniel cared a great deal for the wounded soldier.

When O’Neill was safely tucked back into bed, Samantha reappeared again with a tray of fried meat, boiled greens, and potatoes for the two men. She sat it down on a low table in front of the fireplace. “I’m afraid that this is the last of the coon meat,” she said as she sat it down.

Daniel nodded as he accepted the plate. “I will hunt again tomorrow. I can also look for another bee tree and perhaps find some slippery elm and red oak bark. They will also be useful later on.”

“But for now, Daniel, you must rest.” Teal’c said to him softly. “You have spent much of yourself for your friend. You must rest and grow strong, for he will need much more from you before he is well enough to return it to you.”

Daniel could only nod, his exhaustion obvious. After the three of them had finished their meal, Sam and Teal’c left him alone with Jack. Daniel undressed and using the remaining warm water from the large caldron bathed himself. Then, dressed in another of the missing Mr. Carter’s nightshirts, he gratefully crawled into the huge bed next to his friend and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

____________

 

Major General George Hammond of the Union Army and his young aide Captain Paul Davis had ridden out with a small cadre of his Cavalrymen in search of a rumor. Hammond had been just about to muster out of the Union Army and return to his home in Texas when he had heard a story involving an old friend. He’d been told that Colonel Jack O’Neill, an ex-Captain in his old company of Texas Rangers, had been wounded and captured at the Battle of Cedar Creek. From the battlefield he’d been taken to the Prisoner of War Camp, Camp Sumter in Andersonville Georgia.

The place had been recently opened and was reported to be a “damned hellhole” in all the official reports from the newly exchanged prisoners. Hammond had been very concerned about the strong willed, brave young officer, but now he was down right worried. Upon his arrival at Andersonville Georgia, he had heard that O’Neill had still been alive but seriously wounded and very ill. So ill, in fact, that he hadn’t been sent to Florida with the other wounded but been taken to a small hospital a few miles away from Camp Sumter. 

When they got to the hospital, to verify O’Neill’s identification and satisfy himself that everything was being done to aid his old friend, he had found the officer gone. The Steward at the Hospital reported that a longhaired, wild looking, young man had shown up without identification, authorization, or any official documentation. Then, at gunpoint, he had walked in and forcibly removed the injured man to a place unknown. Ordinarily, this would have been bad enough to infuriate the experienced field officer. However, when he and his military detail had arrived at the so-called hospital not far from Camp Sumter, Hammond had been appalled at the conditions of the sick and injured soldiers. After taking a quick tour of the facility, he had immediately ordered a runner to return to Union Army Headquarters in town to dispatch an Army Medical Doctor to come out and take charge of the hospital. The rescued prisoners were in such a condition of neglect, he found himself silently thanking whoever O’Neill’s kidnapper was for taking the injured officer away from this horror. The Steward obviously didn’t have the training, the inclination or the good sense that God gave a goat to help these men. He seemed to view himself as someone just there to wait until the remaining men all died.

Once he was satisfied that the proper steps were being taken to protect the remaining wounded men, Hammond had started to search in earnest. He was terribly concerned that his friend and old subordinate was suffering from the results of that neglect. Following a cold trail of several days they had finally located someone who told them a rather elaborate story of two men, one of them badly injured, taking shelter at a local farm. So now, he had gone to look for himself.

*******

Samantha Carter was washing clothes on the porch of her anti-bellum plantation house when she heard a group of horsemen coming up the shady lane that led to her front yard. Teal’c and Daniel obviously heard them also because both men appeared as if by magic with weapons in hand; Jackson a Winchester Repeating rifle at the ready, and Teal’c, an old flintlock. Daniel handed Sam a revolver, which she stuck in her apron pocket.

The trio watched as two Union Calvary officers and a squad of ten men approached the house. Samantha Carter recognized the star insignia of a General officer. She started forward, but Daniel stepped in front of her and went out to meet the party of men. Teal’c stood beside her in the yard, antique rifle at hand.

The General and Captain halted the squad and trotted their mounts up to where the young man stood. Daniel called out to them as they approached. 

“Can I help you?”

The two men reined up a few feet from him. “Good afternoon, young man.” The senior officer spoke in a pleasant voice with a Texas twang. “My name is General Hammond, and this is my aide Captain Davis. I’m looking for an old friend of mine that I’ve heard might be here. He was wounded and sick, in a hospital, and according to the man in charge of it, some wild-eyed, longhaired, pistol-waving youngster came in and kidnapped my Colonel O’Neill.” Hammond looked thoughtfully at Daniel as he repeated the description. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now would you, boy?”

Daniel was surprised at the description and story he heard, but he answered truthfully. “Yes, sir. As a matter of fact I do.”

Samantha pushed past Teal‘c, and approached the men angrily. “General, that’s a lie! That’s not what happened at all. Your officer was near death when Daniel here found him. He would have been dead and soon too, if O’Neill had been left there any longer.”

Hammond swung off his big gray horse and looked closely at the youngster in front of him. “Did you say your name was Daniel, son?”

“No, she did,” he corrected the General Officer. “But I am Daniel Jackson.”

“From the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma?” The man continued, with an odd expression on his face.

Now Daniel was becoming confused. “Yes, that’s me. Who are you?” He looked suspiciously at the older man. He was certain they’d never met before.

“Well, son, I’m George Hammond, from San Antonio Texas. I was the commander of the detachment of Texas Rangers there. If you’re the one who stole Jack O’Neill from that damned stink hole of a hospital, you have my gratitude and my thanks. I’ve heard a lot about you, young Daniel, and all of it good.”

Daniel remembered the name. “Jack often spoke of his Commander from the Rangers. He has said good words of you, also.” Daniel looked curiously at the older man. “But how did you find us?"

"Well, I've been looking for Jack O’Neill ever since I heard he was captured. I thought he was sent to a hospital right off, but then I heard he was at Andersonville. We were trying to arrange for a prisoner exchange before the war ended but it never happened.” The General shook his head. “How is he? Can I see him?”

The young man frowned. “He’s still very ill. He hasn’t truly regained consciousness yet, though he knows me.” But seeing the concerned expression on Hammond’s face, he relented. “I will take you to him, but you must be quiet,” Daniel glanced at the Captain and then at the squad of soldiers, “and you must come alone.”

The General nodded his agreement, but Captain Davis started to object. “Sir. Is that wise? You don’t know who these people are.”

Hammond looked up at the junior officer impatiently. “Oh, yes, I do, Davis. This is a good friend of Jack O’Neill’s. Jack’s spoken to me of his friend Daniel Jackson many times over the years. And young Jackson here ’s right, if Jack is badly injured and ill, he doesn’t need a whole herd of Cavalrymen stomping up to and around his room.” He looked back at Daniel. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

Daniel shook his head. “Just us, General.” He indicated his two friends. “This is Samantha Carter, this is her place. This is Teal’c, he is her protector. They were kind enough to allow me to bring Jack here so that he would have a safe place to lie up and heal.”

Hammond nodded to the unlikely pair. “Then you have my gratitude also. I was very concerned to think of my friend being neglected or mistreated in his time of need.” He glanced at Jackson then at Samantha Carter. “May I?” He indicated the doorway into the house.

Sam looked at Daniel. “Yes.” She replied with ladylike poise to the senior officer, “If Daniel says you’re all right.”

The young man nodded at her confidence in him and led the way into the residence. Hammond was quiet as he followed Daniel up the staircase. The Texan General could see the house had obviously belonged to a family of some means before the war, but now it was showing the effects of little money and no help. A lot of the house’s furniture was no longer in evidence and parts of the interior were badly in need of repair. 

As they approached what appeared to be the master bedroom Daniel put his finger to his lips to indicate silence. Hammond nodded in understanding. The young man opened the door and led the way in. The General could see a huge four poster bed with a shrunken, wasted figure enveloped in the bed linens. At first sight, Hammond wanted to say that Daniel was mistaken that this could not possibly be his friend. Jack O’Neill was a tall, well-built man and had towered over many of the other Rangers in his company, but as he drew closer he could indeed recognize what the war had left of his old compadre.

Daniel had crossed to the big bed and lain a gentle hand on his friend’s forehead, checking for fever. Then, a thin shaking hand reached up from the bed and Daniel took hold of it. He perched himself on the side of the bed, looked back to the Calvary Officer and indicated Hammond to come forward. 

As he got close to the wounded man, Hammond was shocked to see the condition of his old friend. The strong, graceful man was but a shell of himself. The power that had been Jack O’Neill had been drained away leaving a mere shadow. The strong face had become that of an old man, skin stretched like parchment across the high cheekbones and broad brow. The General cleared his throat to strengthen his voice before he spoke.

“Jack, Jack how are you doing?” The dark eyes in the wasted face searched his own as if trying to recall the name of this new visitor from a long time ago. 

O’Neill looked to Daniel for assistance. The young man leaned over and spoke softly. “It’s Hammond, Jack. Do you remember him? He says he’s a friend of yours.”

“Jack, its George Hammond, from San An' tone. It’s good to see you, Jack.”

“George?” The voice was weak, but understandable.

“That’s right, son. George.” He assured the other man. “How you feeling?”

After a short hesitation, Jack nodded slightly in recognition. “George, good to see you. Sorry, I can’t get up...” the sick man stirred in the bed.

“That’s okay, Jack, you stay right there.” The General stepped forward and patted O’Neill’s arm awkwardly, his eyes appeared suspiciously damp. “You see, I finally met your Daniel Jackson. He’s a good man, Jack.”

Jack nodded slightly and spoke softly, “He’ll do.” Daniel smiled down at him, accepting the praise.

“Now you listen here, Jack. I‘m gonna let you rest a bit, but I‘ll come back to visit with you in a few days. You get yourself well now, ya hear?”

Jack nodded and closed his eyes, still holding on to Daniel’s hand. “Jack, I’m going to go talk to the General for a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

O’Neill nodded weakly and released Daniel’s hand. Jackson got up from the bed and escorted Hammond back down to the first floor.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, the General turned to face the young man with profound sadness. “Son, look-a-here, I will be back in a few days. God knows that you’ve saved his life, but I’d like to bring a Doctor out to look at him.”

Daniel nodded. “I only can do what I know and that’s Indian medicine. Maybe your white medicine can help him more.”

“I can’t say if it will or not, but...I have to try to help.” Hammond reached into his coat pocket and brought out a leather coin bag. He shook out several silver and gold pieces and gave them to Daniel. “Use this to buy whatever you can find that will help him. Some fresh vegetables, or a chicken...whatever.” When the youngster started to protest, Hammond shushed him. “I know you won’t take my money...it’s for him. Son, you’ve saved the life of one of the best men I know. Simple money can’t repay you...but it can help him...so use it.”

Daniel silenced his protest. The General was right of course, and good food was very important to Jack’s recovery. “I thank you for him.” He replied as he took the coins and put them in his own trousers’ pocket.

General Hammond smiled at Jackson. “And now that I’ve seen him and know where he is, I can get his discharge papers done up properly so nobody can stop you and him from leaving when he’s ready.” At Jackson’s confused look, Hammond continued. “Right now, he’s still technically in the Army, but when I get his discharge papers all signed and ready, then he’ll be free to go wherever he wants to...and you can’t get into any trouble for taking him out of that death house.”

Daniel looked at him in disbelief. “Wise Eagle is right,” he replied in an amazed voice. “The White men do think they own everything...even each other.”

Hammond looked back at the doorway that led to his friend. “Only some do, and then there are a few that can’t be owned.” He indicated the upstairs room. “And that’s one of them.”

******

 

Jack O’Neill awoke one morning without having the vaguest idea where he was. Well, he did know that he was lying in a huge four-poster bed in a large, light, airy bedroom. It felt like a piece of heaven come to earth to him. It must be summer; the atmosphere in the room was warm and sunny. All the tall windows were thrown open and a soft breeze wafted through them. It stroked the gauzy curtains into a gentle ballet as dust motes sparkled in the sun. There was birdsong on the wind and the soft sound of leaves waltzing to the strains of the Mockingbirds courtship song.

He lay there for a good long while, just appreciating the feeling of being warm, clean and comfortable. He looked down at the floral print quilted coverlet that lay across his chest and then, he saw his hand. He knew it was his hand, but it seemed curiously altered in appearance. The pale parchment like skin seemed stretched too thinly across the stark bones and sinews. The hand exhibited all the proper markings, long thin fingers, the scar from the boyhood fight with his younger brother, the slightly crooked little finger where it had been broken. It was his hand, just mysteriously altered by something, somehow, somewhen. He pushed down on the coverlet with his hand to see the other hand, lying peacefully on top of his chest resting on a striped cotton nightshirt. It too was changed, too thin, too pale, too weak. 

Jack managed to move his second hand in tandem with the first and he brought them both up to his face. He found it’s planes altered also, his nose a bit too hawk like for memory, cheekbones too prominent for familiarity. Soft clean skin with only a short bristle of beard testified that someone unknown was caring for him, but another revelation occurred in these actions. His arms were as thin as reeds; white in color and so frail as to resemble those of a very ill or very old man.

What had happened to him? Why had it happened? Had Rip van Winkle felt like this when he woke from his magic sleep? What horrible nightmare had he lived and where, oh where was he now?

O’Neill finally decided that he really needed to find out these things and why. There was no one else there to ask so he tried to concentrate and remember what the last thing he could recall clearly was. The overwhelming memory that he summoned from his confused mind was the sensation of being very cold and in pain. 

Then the haze of confusion began to fade and the visions started to return. His most vivid memory was of a battle. First, recalling the sights and sounds of his comrades in the long battle lines of blue coats and horses. This sight co-mingled with the familiar smells of leather, sweat and fear of both men and their mounts in their anticipation of the upcoming violence. Then in the distance could be heard the sounds of cannon and rifle fire. Next, the calls of the Commanders were heard and echoed by the Sergeants down through the ranks of the infantrymen and cavalry. He could still envision the ground passing quickly beneath his horse's galloping hooves as they surged forward into the charge. He could see the gray lines of the enemy marching towards them. He could smell the acrid perfume of gunpowder, scent the tangy odor of sweat and fear. He vividly recalled the muted slap of lead hitting flesh, the sharp explosion of pain in his leg and an odd sensation of flying as his horse stumbled forward and fell thunderously to the ground with a groan. More smells, the sickly sweet scent of fresh blood, the odor of the raw, torn earth as he lay face down under the bulk of his horse's body. More numbing pain as the animal struggled to regain his feet and failed, to lie heavily on him, stealing what breath he had left and trapping him beneath. An odd sense of grief for the faithful animal that had served him so well for so long as they lay together, dying on the field of battle.

After that, a long period of nothingness. The rough sensation of hands dragging at him roused him with pain, brutally freeing him from beneath his dying horse. Then he was carried and slung over another poor frightened animal's back and led from the field, again fading into darkness. 

Everything from there on became blended into a long nightmare of hurt, confusion and movement; interspersed with long periods of nothingness. In time, his torturous journey ended days later when he was unceremoniously deposited into a prisoner of war encampment. What followed in the days, weeks and months after that was nothing more than one long endless nightmare of pain, hunger, thirst, cold and misery. All he could recall was formless visions of indistinct memories and indistinguishable days of a freezing, wet, cold, existence followed by periods of thirst, hunger and pain with a few sporadic episodes of kindness from his fellow victims. Finally, his mind, body and spirit battered and beaten into apathy and indifference  
to his own fate, uncaring whether he lived or died, sank into a sea of semiconscious mist. 

Then, the face from a dream of long ago came to him. It was so foreign to his recent experiences that it didn't seem real. The familiar voice came with gentle hands and healing touches. It spoke to the soul and spirit of the man in a singsong language that used words like gi-ne-li (friend), da-ni-ta-ga (blood brother) and u-du (brother). Words that spoke of nv-wa-do-hi-ya-dv (peace) and ge-tsa-di (home). That voice touched him in the depths where he had fled into nothingness and it brought him back to this warm, soft, clean place…a place of hope. Daniel, it was Daniel, who had brought him back to the land of light and life. 

He wanted to find his friend, wanted to go to him, but he was so weak, so tired. He didn’t think he could get out of the bed, even if he knew where to go.

*******

Daniel entered Jack’s room. He’d been chopping wood in the back yard that morning. Teal’c had started harvesting what crops and fresh vegetables they managed to get from the garden plot; some tomatoes, carrots, and some snap beans. Sam would fix a stew tonight with the four squirrels he had shot last evening and make some cornbread. It would be a good tasting, filling meal and he was hungry. Then some of the left over stew would be boiled until it was soft enough for him to force feed to Jack. Jack needed to eat, he was much too thin and it was interfering with his body’s ability to heal. 

General Hammond had promised to bring a doctor out. He hoped it would be soon. The Indian medicine that he knew was not enough. He’d kept Jack alive, but it was only a half-life. The spirit of his friend was still far away. Many days Daniel had wished for his grandfather, Wise Eagle or the tribe’s healer, Gray Bear for their knowledge. Now, he just hoped the white man’s doctor could do more for his friend than he had been able to. 

As he entered the bedroom Daniel crossed to the large bed to check on his patient. The older man looked better at least, clean and comfortable in the bed. The pain that had been reflected on his face had passed and now there was peace at least. Daniel sat down on the edge of the mattress and stroked his friend’s brow to test for fever. There was none. The fever had broken. Then, the brown eyes opened to look at him in calm acceptance.

“Jack?” He breathed the name in amazement. “Jack!”

The other man weakly stirred and tried to lift a hand to return his touch. “Daniel.” 

Daniel reached to grasp the trembling hand. “Jack, do you know me?” He said, trying to stay calm for his friend while his heart did cartwheels in his chest.

“For years, Daniel. I’ve known you for years.” 

Daniel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He could only hold on to Jack’s hand, stroke his face and smile broadly and foolishly down at his friend. Finally...finally, Jack had made the long journey back to him from his place in the shadows. The officer lay quietly back on the pillows just gazing up at him as if he was the best sight in years. “Jack, oh Jack, you’ve come back, Da-ni-ta-ga. You’ve come back!”

“Daniel, where are we?” Jack finally asked as he turned his face to look at the open window. “I don’t remember this place.”

“It is the home of a friend who took us in when we needed help.” The young man answered him. “You would not remember it. You were not conscious when we brought you here.”

“I don’t remember much, Danny.” The older man admitted weakly. “In fact, I really don’t remember anything...except your voice in my mind. What happened? How did I get like...like this?”

Daniel took a deep breath to steady himself. “It is a long story, Ta-wa-di. You were gravely wounded in battle. But you are here now, I will bring you something to eat, then we can talk.”

Jack nodded. It occurred to him that he was hungry. “I could eat.”

“I’ll go and get you something.” Daniel lay Jack’s hand back down on the bed as if it would break at the contact. “Be awake when I return.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Danny. I’ll be here.” As Daniel got up from the bed and went to the door, Jack called softly to him. “Daniel?”

“Yes, Jack.” Daniel turned and came back to his friend‘s side.

“This is all real, right? I’m not dreaming, am I?” Jack sounded worried.

“No, my friend.” Daniel smiled at him, touched his face and looked down into the brown eyes willing Jack to know it and he were real. “Not a dream, the dreaming is over. Now, now you will live again.”

Jack smiled at his friend and closed his eyes. 

*******

Daniel practically ran down the staircase and into the kitchen. “Sam, Teal’c...he’s awake! Sam!” He entered the kitchen; the young woman was standing by the old cast iron stove looking at him in surprise. She had been stirring something in a large pot and still held her wooden spoon.  
“Sam!” He was breathless with excitement.

“What is it, Daniel? Are you hurt? Is it Jack? What’s wrong?”

But his big sunny smile quelled her immediate fears. “No, no, no, not that...Jack’s awake...he’s talking, and he knew me right off.” He grasped the young woman in a hug and spun her around the kitchen floor. “And he’s hungry! He wants to eat!”

Samantha had to laugh at her friend’s excitement and happiness. “Daniel, that’s wonderful.” She stopped their spinning and went back to the stove. “He’s hungry? Then food he shall have.” Sam peered into the pot. “But not this, it’s not done yet.” She looked around the kitchen and saw some of the morning’s biscuits. “Here, here’s some bread.” Then she picked up a cup and went sown into the basement’s cool room. She returned with a mug of fresh milk from that morning’s milking. “It hasn’t separated yet,” she commented to both herself and Daniel, “so all the cream is still in the milk.”

Daniel, still smiling, took the cup carefully from her hand. “Thanks to Betsy. I’ll cut her some fresh wild oats tonight.”

Sam had to giggle at him. “Daniel, she’s a cow, for pity’s sake. You don’t thank cows for giving milk.”

“Then how do they know that you appreciate their efforts?” He asked gaily, as he took two of the remaining biscuits and began to spread a little of the honey on them that he had gathered the day before.

“Daniel, are all Indians as silly as you?”

“Oh no, we are all different, like you white people, but I have to go now or Jack will fall asleep again.” Daniel turned and headed back to the sickroom.

Sam followed him to the kitchen door. “Daniel, can I come up?” 

He paused a moment on the bottom stair. “Come up in ten minutes,” He answered happily. “Let me tell him first.”

Daniel hurried back to the bedroom bearing the food. He entered the room and Jack opened his eyes at his approach. Daniel drug a chair over to the bed with him and sat the food on it. He helped his friend to sit up and drink from the mug, then he fed him small pieces of the biscuit. Jack managed to eat a whole one and finish the milk. But he tired quickly and was ready to rest when there was a tap on the door.

“Oh, Sam wants to meet you...for just a minute.” Daniel told him as he took the mug from his friend’s tired hands and sat it down on the bed table. Jack nodded sleepily, exhausted by the effort of eating. Daniel adjusted the pillow and comforter for his friend. “Sam, come in.” He called.

The young woman entered the sick room quietly and approached the bed. She immediately saw the difference in the man. He was alive now to her and even as weak as he was, Jack O’Neill was a powerful persona. The surprisingly dark brown eyes looked at her with calm acceptance and a depth of personality.

“Hello, Colonel O’Neill. It’s good to finally make your acquaintance.” She greeted him and touched his hand. He immediately took hers in a weak grip.

“I’m very pleased to be here and grateful to meet you, Miss Carter.” Jack said weakly in a soft voice, recalling her name from Daniel’s talking. “Thank you for your hospitality...and your trouble.”

“You’ve been no trouble, Colonel.” She smiled at him, then shifted her look to the young man who was hovering next to the bed. “And Daniel has been a great help, not only to you, but to us also.” She patted Jack’s hand with her free one. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. We’ve been very concerned over you.”

O’Neill nodded, he was becoming tired quickly. Sam noticed his exhaustion and slipped her hand from his grasp. “You must rest now, Colonel. But when you awaken, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call on me to help you.”

Jack could only blink and try to smile as he fell asleep before their eyes. Sam looked up at Daniel and saw the caring in his eyes, as he gazed down at the older man. On an impulse, she stepped over and kissed Daniel on the cheek. “You did it, Daniel. You really did it.”

Daniel smiled down at her. “We did it, you and Teal’c too. Thank you.”

*******

That night, Jack O’Neill ate his first meal in almost seven months. It was only a small portion: simple, filling and completely wonderful, even if Daniel insisted on cooking his portion of the stew until it was mush. Jack was still a little unsure if he hadn’t finally died and gone on to that Heaven that his old Priest used to prattle on about. 

But reality came crashing in that evening when his benefactors prepared his bath for him. Teal’c, the third member of his round the clock nursing staff, came in and helped him into the tub. O’Neill was shocked at the severity of his incapacitation and the horrible injury on his leg. From the wonderful feeling of the hot water on his stiff, abused body to the gruesome sight of his infected wound to the exquisite pain he suffered during Daniel’s gentle, careful handling and treatment of his damaged leg and knee, Jack began to realize just how bad things had gotten for him.

When his bath ordeal was over, by doing some fancy math in his head, Jack realized that he’d been wounded sometime in October and Daniel had assured him it was May of the following year. He’d lost a whole seven months to his hell on earth. At first he couldn’t believe the time period. Then, as Daniel and Teal’c cleaned and redressed his wounded leg, Jack O’Neill listened to their talk. He began to realize just how remarkable a thing his young friend had done for him. For Daniel to not only find him in the chaos of the end of the war, but to go literally steal him away from the hospital, then to support and treat his wounded body and mind was miraculous. It was the act of a hero of Herculean proportions. Amazing just didn’t cover it.

Miss Carter was not acting at all like a southern lady. She would breeze in and out of his room, bringing in toweling and clean clothes for him, acting as if he were fully dressed and calmly sitting in her parlor; not naked as a jay-bird in a bathtub in her upstairs bedroom. She was so matter of fact about everything; he was able to not feel totally embarrassed. During the course of a background discussion, she told him that she was born southern but her father had sent her to Pennsylvania to a Finishing School when her mother had died. Then General Carter had called her back to run the farm while he was gone off to war. He had served under General Lee but had not yet returned home after the war was over. She had heard a rumor about his refusing to swear the oath of fealty to the Union but had no proof of it. 

Samantha had been one of those people who hadn’t chosen sides in the war. She just hated the whole situation and was glad it was finally over for good. A Yankee Calvary Officer in her home did not bother her one whit. He was a man who needed help, and she could help him, and that was the end of that problem. 

Her friend Teal’c had been a slave at the Carter Farm when her father, Jacob was there. But Samantha Carter had been quite happy to free all her slaves as soon as it had been safe for them. A few had stayed on the property with her and helped out in the fields but most had left as soon as they had been able. The big black man had left the farm for a short time; but when he had heard that she had been harassed and molested by some evil white men, he had rushed back to offer her some protection until her father returned or some other answer was found for her safety.

Finally, all the chores for his care were finished that night. Jack lay back exhausted by the ordeal in the big bed, watching Daniel finish emptying the bathtub by throwing the dirty water out the window by bucket. Then the younger man washed with a wet towel and some clean water that he had held back. After pulling on another nightshirt, Daniel crawled into his side of the large bed.

Jack turned his head to look at the earnest young man who was studying him from the other pillow. “Thank you, Danny.”

Daniel smiled that infectious sweet smile of his back at his friend. “Thank yourself, Jack. Remember, if you hadn’t rescued me from that wounded buffalo when I was eighteen, I wouldn’t have been here to find you.”

Jack looked at him with warmth, “Maybe so, but it seems a whole lot easier to kill a few buffalo and pull an Indian kid up behind my saddle that day, than to do what you did.” He shook his head. “I didn’t even know who you were then, U-ne-ga Yv-wu (white Indian).”

“Which makes it even a braver thing.” Daniel reached over and pushed the hair off of Jack’s forehead. “Go to sleep Jack, you must rest now and grow strong.”

Jack nodded at his friend, closed his eyes and slept.

*******

The following day, Sam, Teal’c, and Daniel were doing the laundry out on the front porch. Teal’c was boiling and carrying the water and then plying the washing pole, swirling the sheets and other item around in the large galvanized tub. Sam was handling the wash board chores, and Daniel was busily hanging the items up to dry in the warm southern breezes. Then after a few hours, he would gather the dry items off the line and carry them safely inside. It was a chore that would take all day and was backbreaking work for all involved. 

Daniel also was playing butler to his patient, Jack O’Neill. Now, that it was early afternoon, and very pleasant, Jack was actually feeling well enough to want to sit up in a chair for a short while. He was on the veranda that ran all along the second floor, sitting in the sun, napping when he heard some commotion from downstairs. 

There were signs of a wagon or several horses coming up the long grassy lane towards the house from the main road. From the amount of dust, Jack guessed a wagon of some sort. He was just about to attempt to stand up from his chair when Daniel caught him in the act.

“Oh, no, you don’t, Jack.” The voice stopped him in mid push. “I knew  
you’d be trying something up here.” Daniel slipped under Jack’s arm and supported him on his shoulder. “Come on, you’ve been up long enough.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Daniel.” Jack groused, good-naturedly. “I’ve been abed too long already. I get dizzy just thinking of standing up.”

“Then you should listen to your body and obey its commands.” Daniel sat him back down on the bed, and looked at him critically. 

*******

The large buckboard came into sight as it approached the house. From his perch on the second floor, Daniel could see that it was General Hammond’s group with Captain Davis driving. There was a small chestnut-haired woman sitting next to him on the flat seat. Hammond and another, younger officer were riding along side the wagon. The wagon appeared to be loaded with several boxes, barrels and casks stacked in the back.

As the cortège pulled up in front of the Carter house, Sam and Teal’c came out to meet them. Daniel waved at the party from the second floor. Hammond saw him and waved back. Sam invited the four people into the house and Daniel soon heard the sound of booted footsteps on the wooden second floor. Someone tapped at the door for entrance.

Daniel opened the door and General Hammond and the small woman entered. When Hammond saw that Jack was awake, he strode quickly across the floor and bent down to the bedside and took his old friend’s hand.

“Jack, you old son of a gun...I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you awake.” The General was smiling down at his old friend. “I was really afraid that this time, you’d gone and done it up for good.”

The woman looked up at the tall young man. “Hello, I’m Doctor Janet Fraiser.”

Daniel nodded, “Daniel Jackson. It’s good of you to come this long journey.”

“And miss meeting you two?” She laughed, easily and softly. “I just couldn’t pass up the chance.” Doctor Fraiser replied as she glanced over at where O’Neill was lying on the bed. Jackson nodded and she followed the General over to the injured man’s bedside.

“Jack, this is a friend of mine, Doctor Fraiser. I brought her out to check on that leg of yours.” Hammond smiled down at Jack. 

“Now, Comman..., er General, I’ve got a damn good Doctor. I’ve still got the leg.” He looked meaningfully at the two newcomers.”

“No, Jack; let her look at it.” Daniel protested, then looked at the Lady Doctor. “Ma'm, it was in pretty bad shape, but I’ve cleaned it and poulticed it from what I knew our ga-na-ga-ti, uh, our healer would do. The injury looks better to me, but you would know.”

Fraiser nodded, then turned to the other two men. “If I may, Colonel?”

O’Neill frowned, but Hammond nodded to him tacitly acting permission. Finally, Jack relented. The General moved back to talk to Daniel.  
“You understand son, it’s not that I don’t trust you...”

“Of course, we both want what’s best for Jack.” 

The Doctor had pulled the coverlet off of Jack and was unwrapping his injury. When the linen had come off, she looked at the wound a long time. Then she glanced up at Daniel. “How long have you been treating this?”

“I found him six days ago, but by the time I got him away from that place and to a good camp, it was too dark. The next day, late morning, I started.”

“This is amazing...” Fraiser looked at him then down at O’Neill.  
“When did you receive this wound?”

“From my figuring, around the nineteenth of October. We engaged Early’s troops at Cedar Creek. That’s when I was wounded. I must have been unconscious for several days. When I woke up I was being hauled to the Camp.” He looked to Hammond for information. 

The General was thinking already. “That would have been about right.” Hammond looked down Jack and shook his head. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been carrying that wound for six months or more?”

Jack looked at Daniel who shrugged. “I uh, well, evidently so. Someone helped me in the camp, one of the other prisoners I think. I remember him using leaches and maggots on my leg.” 

Hammond just stared at him, but Daniel and Fraiser nodded. “The healers use them occasionally, to keep the proud flesh down.” The younger man commented.

“I’ve heard of that,” Fraiser agreed. “but what is this that you have on here now?”

“That’s a poultice of beaten honeycomb and honey.” He leaned over her shoulder, “and maybe a few dead bees.” Daniel raised his eyes to Jack’s who smiled at him. “It draws the poison out and sloughs the dead meat away. For his other hurts, I’ve used Aloe Vera and the tea from Red Oak bark. For his pain, I have given him tea from skin of the Slippery Elm tree.”

“I’ve known about the Aloe Vera.” Janet delicately began to examine the wound more closely.

“Oh, and of course, I clean the wound twice a day and treat it.” Daniel put in. 

“With what?”

“I use sacred fire to boil the water and the bandages to purify them,” He replied, “so that no evil enters the wound again. This I was taught by Gray Bear, our ga-na-ga-ti.”

Fraiser nodded. “If he’d been taken to a Military Hospital, they would have amputated that leg, to keep the evil out. But, now, it’s doing very well, it’s beginning to heal. I don’t know how much use you’ll have of the leg, Colonel O’Neill, but you will have it.”

Jack looked from her to Daniel. Jackson could see his friend’s fear in his eyes, if no one else could. He squatted by the bed next to O’Neill and took his friend’s hand in his. “He will have all the use of the leg. I say it. Gray Bear would say it. It is only a wound. He feels the pain in it. It is alive. It will heal.”

Fraiser looked from the Colonel to the General to the young man. “I certainly hope so, Daniel. She replied. “For his sake.”

 

The Carter farm  
Chapter 6

Finally, the General and his woman Doctor left the two friends alone in the bedroom. Daniel was standing by the bed staring at the door. He was angry with her, not because she doubted his medicine. He was no healer, and he knew it. He was angry because she doubted O‘Neill. She didn’t know him, she hadn’t seen him before when he was tall and strong, able to lift a youngster to safety, to run with the men while hunting, to train a horse by his skill. She did not know of his fluid grace, his vigorous personality, or his indomitable will to succeed. How dare she come in here and tell Jack that he would fail, that he wouldn’t walk or run again? Jack would not fail because he did not know how to fail, just like he had survived the camp because he did not know how to give up.

A hand touched his, and Daniel turned and sat on the bed next to his friend. Jack looked at him questioningly. “What’s wrong, Daniel? Why so quiet?”

Daniel smiled at Jack, “I don’t know,” he shook his head, “I don’t think I like her as much as I thought I would.” He shrugged. “Maybe I was expecting a man doctor.”

The older man shook his head. “I don’t believe that. You’ve been treated by women healers at home.” O’Neill looked at him with concern. “Come on, Daniel, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

He knew that he couldn’t lie to Jack, and worse, he knew that Jack knew it also. He turned to sit back down by his friend. He took Jack’s hand in his then finally, he said it. “She’s wrong Jack.”

O'Neill looked confused at first, then realization occurred. “Oh, you mean about me...my leg.” He shrugged. “Daniel, it’s bad. I knew that. The only thing that saved me from having it cut off before was that they thought I was gonna die anyway. I’m lucky you found me when you did, or I would have been dead.”

“No.”

“Yes. Look, I know what I look like.” The pain in Jack’s voice cut at him like a sharp skinning knife. “I can see my body, and my arms and legs. I was more than half dead when you found me. Hell, I probably should have been dead. I wanted to die, not lay there anymore like a pile of sticks.” Jack’s hand found his arm and tugged on it, calling for Daniel’s attention. “Daniel, you’ve already done the impossible. Miracles come from a little different place then skill.”

“But this is exactly what I mean. In an hour, she’s convinced you that you’ll not be whole again.” Daniel turned and looked directly at his friend, holding his eyes with his own. “Hear me, Captain Jack O’Neill. You will not die. You will not be crippled. You will get out of that bed and you will walk. You will return with me to the land of the a-ni-tsa-la-gi (Cherokee Indians). You will grow strong there. You will break the good gray colt grandfather will give you and we will ride the o-ga-la-ho-mi (Oklahoma) into nv-da-gi (Texas). I am Wa-ya. I have seen this truth. I know it!”

Jack looked up at his friend in surprise. “You know, Danny, when you talk like that...I want to believe you...but facts...”

“Are nothing but what your people believe today.” The blue eyes willed him to believe his words. “My people do not have the same truths as yours.” Daniel shifted his hand so that his fingers linked through O'Neill's. “Believe in my truth, Da-na-wa A-hi-ga-lu-s-sti (war hawk). Believe that U-ne-qua (Great Spirit) will hear us and with my little medicine and your strong spirit, our people will see you well again.” The younger man looked down at their clasped hands. “If you do not believe this, it will not happen.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll try, Danny. For you, I‘ll try” 

“I will make you.”

Jack chuckled softly. “I believe you will.” 

*******

Daniel had sat a while longer with Jack, talking to him about different things, horses and old hunts. Remembering the camp and the friends they shared, until the injured man had fallen into a peaceful healing sleep. Daniel left him and went back downstairs to dinner. The General and his party had brought out some supplies with them such as flour, sugar, salt and coffee. Teal’c, Captain Davis and Lieutenant Simmons had unloaded the provisions while he had been with Jack. As he came down the stairs, he could hear Samantha and the General talking.

“Miss Carter, I insist you take this food. I know how hard it is for y’all out here.”

“General Hammond, while I appreciate your generosity....”

As he entered the room, Hammond turned to Daniel. “Good, there you are.”

Daniel looked back and forth between the two. “What’s wrong, Sam?”

She looked at him in frustration. “I was explaining to the General that I am unused to taking charity...”

“...From a Bluebelly officer.” He looked at her and shook his head. “Miss Carter, please, I’m doing it to help my officer that you’ve taken in. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to be able to come and visit him again, so please, let me help you to take care of him.”

Sam glanced at Daniel. She knew the young man well enough to know he was upset about something. He met her eyes and then looked at the General. “Take the food, Sam. Jack needs it to grow strong and get well.” He looked squarely at the Officer. “And he will get well.”

Hammond looked at him in confusion. “Of course, he will.” He stated matter of factly. “Jack’s sick, yes, but it’s just a matter of time and he‘ll be fine. Why?”

“General, you’ve been Jack’s friend a long time, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Daniel I have...and I count that friendship as one of great importance to me. Why?”

“Jack is not only physically sick, but his spirit is weak. He can’t fight a battle on two sides. When I found him, he was dying. I gave him a tree to lean on. From that tree he got fruit to eat, sap to drink, bark to heal with. Now, he’s afraid that the tree will not stand for him. The doctor is wrong, but because he is weak now, he believes her.” Daniel shook his head. “I am afraid for him now because now he is afraid that he will fail.”

“Now, wait just one minute, young man.” Doctor Fraiser came into the room. “I don’t know what trees and fruit have to do with Colonel O’Neill’s injuries, but I do know that I won’t lie to a patient.” She said with finality. “That leg should have been taken off six months ago. By now it would be healed.”

“NO! You are the one who does not understand.” Daniel answered her with just as stubbornly as the doctor had given her answer. “You have done more damage with your tongue, than you could have with a knife.” He looked angrily towards the doctor. “You have great skill in your hands, I see this. Why won’t you use that knowledge to heal instead of hurt?”

“I do! I’ve helped many people with my skill as a doctor and a surgeon.” Dr. Fraiser shot back at him.

“Then, do it again.” Daniel said angrily. He glanced at the stairs. “Don’t tell him what he can’t do, tell him what he can do... then, let him do it.” 

“I’m not God, young man.” She retorted in frustration. “I cannot say who is to live and who is to die, who is to walk, or who is to be lame.”

Daniel shook his head. “You are wrong. You do it every day. Every person you touch, you tell them. To one you say, I can heal you. Do as I say. But to others, you say, I cannot help you. You will be crippled. Just like you told Jack.” The young man looked at her sternly. “You will not go there again. He will not hear you. I will not let him.” He then turned and went back up the stairs.

Fraiser looked at the General and Samantha. “I don’t understand what just happened. What does he mean?”

General Hammond cleared his throat and looked at Samantha. “Doctor, that young man was raised by the Cherokee Indians. They believe that a person and his spirit or soul are one and the same. He thinks for the body to heal the soul must believe that it can heal.”

“General, I’m not going to lie to a patient to make him feel better. I had to tell your friend the truth.”

“Doctor Fraiser,” Samantha spoke to the other woman. “I’m no Doctor, or even a trained nurse, but I can tell you that several days ago, we brought a man here who I expected to die at any minute. I expected to have to explain to someone like General Hammond here why I had a Union Calvary Officer buried in my rose garden. But now, less than a week later, I had a conversation with that same officer. I don’t know whether it’s due to Daniel’s refusing to give up on him, his Indian medicine, or the Colonel’s fortitude. Maybe it’s all of it together, but that man is alive up there. A month ago a whole slew of Army doctors went through Camp Sumter and decided those men were going to die and left them there to do just that. Somehow, Daniel not only got here from Oklahoma, he found his friend, got him out of the hospital, and now he‘s getting well. Now, I’m willing to bet that in two months, that man is going to get up out of that bed and walk out of this house. He won’t do it because I want him to, or because the General here tells him to, or even to prove you wrong. He’ll do it because Daniel says he can.” She looked at Hammond with an angry smile. “And I’m going to help him. So yes, General Hammond, I will take that food and money that you want to give us, because Daniel says it will help the Colonel.”

Hammond smiled back at her with a gentle one. “Good, because that’s why I’m giving it to you. Just remember, to help Jack O’Neill, sometimes you have to help yourself.”

*******

Daniel entered the room he shared with his friend. Jack was still sleeping, gathering his strength.   
He pulled his boots off and climbed into the big bed next to Jack and lay there watching him sleep. In a short while, he too rested. He had a battle to fight; they would both need his strength.

Later that evening after dinner, Samantha came up to the room looking for the young man. It was nearly dark, and she was carrying a candle to see with. She also had a large bowl of stew and some flatbread for Daniel and Jack. Sam tapped lightly on their bedroom door. After a few seconds, it opened and Daniel appeared, all sleep tousled, and stepped back to let her in. He indicated that Jack was asleep as he took the food from her. She nodded and went over to start a fire in the hearth. The two of them settled in the chairs by the fireplace to talk in the glow of its flames.

‘Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry about today. I should not have lost my temper.”

Sam waved off, “No, you shouldn’t have, but you are right. I didn’t hear what she said, but I’ve heard doctors before. They don’t understand what their pronouncements can do.” She watched the fire burn in the hearth. “If it helps you, the General and I agree with you, but I don’t think that the Doctor understood what she did was wrong.” Sam looked pensive. “Daniel, a lot of people think that the body is separate from the mind and heart. I know that’s not true, that they all work together to make a person who they are. I’ve seen people die because they decided to.” 

She turned to look at the sleeping man. “But he’s not one of them. He’s come so far, mainly because of you, but a lot because of himself too.” She took a chance and laid a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “He won’t give up on you, Daniel. Don’t you give up on him,” He turned to look at her, “and I think the best thing I can do to help him is to start feeding him right. The Mason’s next door have some peaches and maybe some melons or cantaloupes that they might sell for some good Yankee dollars.” She smiled at him. “And you can take some of the General’s money and go into town and buy some meat and whatever else you need for him.”

Daniel nodded. He knew that Jack needed more meat than he could hunt for here in this war torn area. “Maybe I can by some ham or at least salt pork...” 

Sam nodded. “And sometimes there’s a fishmonger in town.” She got a playful look in her eyes.  
“Maybe I can take that Leutinent Simmons down to the creek and we can catch some crawfish. You buy us some rice, too. We can always make a gumbo soup.” She laughed. “It’s poor southern food, but it’ll put some meat back on his bones. 

*******

The following morning, Daniel and Paul Davis took the army wagon and headed into Andersonville to pick up more food items with the money that General Hammond had given to Jackson. The trip would take most of the morning then the visitors would leave that afternoon to get back to the Union Army Camp.

Samantha took Graham Simmons down to the little creek that ran through her farm. The young man said he didn’t know how to fish. He’d grown up in New York City and had no one to teach him. He was eager to learn and, and anyhow, having a beautiful woman teaching him would not be a hardship on him.

Hammond had gone upstairs to visit with Jack and try to encourage him in his recovery. It hadn’t occurred to him yesterday until Daniel had brought it up that the doctor’s words were rather doom saying. He, however, like the younger man believed that it was only a matter of time until his old friend would be back to himself. O’Neill was napping when the General entered the room. 

Hammond took a moment to sit down and study the resting face. There were new lines creasing the forehead and down along the mobile mouth. The once light brown hair was almost shocking in the amount of gray that it now sported. The cheekbones still stood starkly on the weathered face, and lack of flesh gave him a gaunt look. That, George knew was temporary. Jack was only in his early forties. The muscles, meat and skin would all recover to normalcy with time and food. It was the soul, the spirit of the man that worried him now. He was getting too used to seeing hopelessness and helplessness reflected in the people around him. How would it be when he got back to Texas? Would this feeling of loss and defeat be stamped on every face there too?

Hammond looked up to see Jack looking at him through half opened eyes. “Well, good morning, Colonel.

Jack smiled slightly. “I liked Captain better.” He replied softly, referring to his rank as a Texas Ranger.

“Yes, and I liked Commander a lot better too.” Hammond smiled warmly as he pulled his chair closer to the bedside. “This Generaling business is hard work.”

O’Neill nodded, then indicated the uniform the older man was wearing. “I would have thought that you’d have gone to the other side. Why Union blue?”

“Well, Jack.” He replied thoughtfully. “You know ole Sam Houston, he never did agree with secession. He worked long and hard to get Texas into the Union. He knew that Sante Anne wouldn’t ever give up if it was just us Texicans. Sam and I had a long talk before I left. Hell, a couple of the boys suggested that we secede temporarily until the war was over then rejoin. But then that didn’t seem to make much sense either.” Hammond shook his head. “Nobody could agree. Terry took a bunch of the boys and went one way, I went ahead and left with the U.S. Calvary when it finally pulled out and got in through that back door.” He looked at his friend. “You’d already hightailed it by then.”

Jack nodded. “I went back to Illinois and joined there. They made me a Major to begin with, then as officers kept getting killed, they kept promoting me.” Jack made a face. “I wound up under Custer. A nastier, meaner son of a bitch I never want to meet.”

Hammond shook his head, “I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. The Remount people call him horse-killer Custer.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, the best thing to do was stay as far away from him as you could get. Everybody was shooting at him and when they missed, they got you accidentally.”

“When did you get hit?”

“Cedar Creek, we were fighting Early's bunch.” Jack glanced down at the heavily bandaged knee. “Cost me a damn good horse.”

Hammond looked at him, meeting Jack‘s eyes with affection. “Nearly cost me a damn good Captain. I‘ve missed you, you hard headed Irishman.”

“And I’ve missed you, George.”

Hammond looked at him, then spoke. “Jack, let me tell you what I’ve got planned for my future. I’d like you to think about joining me.”

“George, I don’t know...” He indicated his heavily bandaged leg.

“Jack, you and I both know that Doctors only know what they see.” Hammond leaned forward to his friend and said in a low voice. “But you and me, and Danny-boy too, we know what’s real.”

*******

Dr. Fraiser was at very definite loose ends. Everyone was doing something constructive except her. She wandered from the main part of the house into the kitchen area. The place was very clean, just no servants, no people around. She knew that young Jackson had gone into town with Davis, Samantha had taken Graham fishing, and the General was visiting with his friend O’Neill upstairs in his room. Even Teal’c had said something about going to the next farm to buy some fresh fruit and vegetables. 

Out of complete boredom, she started to make a pot of coffee for the noon time meal. So much for southern hospitality. She heard the rear door open and then slam shut. Well, at least she’d have someone to talk to, even if it was fighting over the patient.

Teal’c came in through the pantry area. He was carrying a basket and a cloth sack, both full to heaping. A mixture of smells came with him, the cloying sweet smell of ripe peaches, the cool smell of cantaloupes, and other good things. He looked at her in surprise. “Can I help you Doctor Fraiser?”

“Well, I actually wanted to see if you needed any help. Everyone seems to have deserted us.” Luckily, Teal’c just nodded as she had not a clue what to say after that. He began sorting the food items, putting some eggs into a cooling bucket with cold spring water down into the root cellar area. 

She looked expectantly at him. “Can I do something? I’m not used to just watching. “

He tilted his head and regarded her curiously for a second. “Would you like to prepare the melons for the noon meal?” Teal’c asked.

“You mean peel and so on?” At his nod she picked up a small sharp knife that was on the wooden table. “Is four enough?” He bowed his head to her in a gesture of agreement. She settled down and began to eviscerate the cantaloupe. Teal’c watched her momentarily, then pulled up a stool and started on some potatoes. 

“How is the Colonel this morning?” Fraiser asked casually.

“He is well enough,” the big man replied. “Perhaps a bit depressed.”

“He has a lot to be depressed about.” She commented softly.

“You do not feel that O’Neill will be well again.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Well, I believe that he can live a full and useful life.” She replied honestly, “but I have some concerns over his leg.”

Teal’c watched her. “I have seen the leg. There is no bone or sinew damage, the muscle has been damaged but that will repair itself.”

“But, the amount of atrophy is staggering.” She shook her head. “It’s not impossible, but it is very hard to accomplish.”

“Daniel Jackson thinks that it is possible.” He looked at her with his inscrutable eyes. “Therefore, I must also, and Colonel will try his best for his friend. I would not wish to be the one to disappoint both of them.”

She looked back down to the fruit she was cutting up. "I hope so too." She glanced back up to see him watching her. "I don't wish him ill, you know?" She said. "I would like it very much that all my patients could be as well as they want to be; they work to be…but sometimes it not possible. You can only do so much with flesh and blood."

"The mind is a very powerful tool." Teal'c said thoughtfully. "I have seen healthy men will themselves to death. And I have seen O'Neill will himself back to life."

The doctor looked at Teal'c as he calmly sat at the table and peeled potatoes. "What?"

"Doctor, I have seen many men die. Of sickness, injury, torture. I know a dead man when I see one. When I lifted that man into the wagon, I knew he was dying. Then the man-boy sat with him. He held his friend in his arms and spoke words of power to him. It made him live." The large man shook his head. "When I carried O’Neill to the room, he was different. I could call it magic, some would call it Indian medicine."

"But, what was it?"

"I would call it faith, and love."

*******

At noon the house began to come alive with the sounds of people returning from their separate journeys. Samantha and Graham returned from the creek with several perch, a bucket full of crawfish and six huge bullfrogs. The two were wet, muddy, and giggling like school kids.

Daniel and Paul Davis returned with several treasures such as a bolt of cloth, several smoked hams, a large bag of rice, tea and coffee, and a crate containing several laying hens and a half a dozen pullets.

Teal'c and Fraiser had put together a meal of fried potatoes, boiled greens and some corn bread. With the added flavor of fresh sliced cantaloupe for a desert. The quick addition of the ham rounded off the meal to suit everyone. When Daniel had finished eating, he went back into the kitchen to prepare a plate to take upstairs to O'Neill. When the Doctor saw his actions, she followed him into the food preparation area.

"Mr. Jackson.” 

Daniel turned around to face her, but didn’t say anything.

“Mr. Jackson...

“Daniel.”

“Daniel, I...” she stopped and started again. “Daniel, I’d like to say I’m sorry about last evening.” He looked at her without speaking. She plowed on. “I guess I’m used to plain talk, I deal with life and death every day. I see men that deserve to live die, and I see men who don’t continue to live. I’m not a mind reader, and I certainly don’t have any special powers. I don’t know your Jack O’Neill,” she took a deep breath. “But the General says he’s a very special person.” Daniel nodded at her. “Look, the General wants to come out next week again. I would like to come out also and see what I can do to help. He’s very weak right now, and you’re doing the best for him that can be done. I promise I won’t do anything to hurt him.”

Daniel continued to gaze at her with his thoughtful eyes. “Why?”

Fraiser looked at him, feeling a little embarrassed by what she was going to say next. “I’d like to learn from you. I want to learn this Indian medicine.”

He thought for a moment, then spoke. “You know much more than I...I am no healer. If you would like to learn the healing ways, you should come with us to the Nations and learn from the great wise men.” Daniel shook his head. “All I know is very plain medicine...to keep the wound clean, to treat the person with gentleness, and to try to lead them back to wholeness with some simple herbs.” He shrugged. “It is not me that does anything, it is the person that heals himself. I was able to help Jack, because I know him well, that is all.”

She looked at him in wonder. “May I come back?”

“Of course, and maybe together we can help the hawk fly.”

She looked at the young man curiously and nodded.

*******

That afternoon after a noon meal, the group gathered at the now empty wagon. General Hammond and the doctor in the wagon and the two young officers both mounted. 

“We’ll be back in a week or two.” The General said to the three friends. “I’ll get Jack’s paperwork in order, get some of his back pay, and then we can come out and see how he’s doing. It’s certainly been a pleasure to meet you all.”

Samantha nodded and smiled at him. “We’ll be expecting you, Sir.”

Hammond looked at Daniel. “You take good care of that ole lobo you got up there in the pen, Daniel Jackson. He can be a bit snappish when his not getting his way. He’ll be strong enough to be bored soon.”

“I will,” the young man replied with a smile. “Have a good journey.”

And the wagon rumbled down the grassy lane flanked by the two young cavalrymen.


	3. Part 3

The spring days turned into early summer. Jack, with the help of his friends, slowly grew stronger and more able to help himself. Walking was still a trial of agony. The knee joint had been affected, the muscles very weakened, but very slowly the infection began to heal and new flesh and muscle to form. The still painful evening treatments were a dreaded part of all their lives but Daniel insisted, supported, and withstood the verbal abuse that was given on many a bad day. Jack endured, persevered, and continued to improve slowly but surely. Finally, the first shaky steps were managed to much rejoicing.

Several days after his first few steps, an old rocking chair appeared on the second floor veranda outside the bedroom’s French doors. Nothing was mentioned or suggested, but after two days of it sitting just within his view, Jack called for Daniel.

That first trip of ten agonizing steps took an eternity and used every scrap of strength and determination Jack O'Neill's Irish gave him. With one arm over Daniel's shoulders and his eyes on his prize he was able to succeed in his assault and the taking of his objective. 

Jack learned two things that day. He was getting well, but it would take a hellish long time and a lot of sweat and grit. He also realized that the stripling boy that he knew five years ago had grown into a powerful young man who could shoulder his weight easily and smile with happiness to do it. 

With the conquering of the chair, O'Neill began to spend his mornings basking in the balmy Georgia sun, and watching the activities of the farm unfold before him. It became a group conspiracy to do everything in the front yard within his field of vision from unloading supplies, to grooming and tending the horses, to repairing equipment. 

To keep Jack's hands occupied, Daniel had found an old skinning knife with a broken blade, which he proceeded to grind down to a razor-sharp cutting edge. This he gave it to Jack along with some small pieces of white pine kindling. These blocks of wood not only kept his mind occupied, but also helped to build strength and dexterity in his hands again. The pine blocks ultimately became hand whittled chess pieces. After O'Neill finished the chess set a board magically appeared. Jack began to play the game with Daniel and during the day teach Samantha to play. She quickly caught on to the strategy and the two of them enjoyed the game.

Samantha and Jack were becoming good friends in their own right. He learned that she had an uncanny ability to manipulate numbers in her head and a mind capable of working out very difficult problems quickly. She had in fact, designed several simple machines to assist in some of the heavy chores that had taken large numbers of slaves to perform, allowing one or two of them to accomplish the work in a much shorter period of time. Sam delighted in showing her plans to him. He offered her the support and enthusiasm for her talents that were denied many women of her class.

Teal'c was the rock of the household. His patience and steadfastness with the often-difficult O'Neill was a wonder to behold. He and Daniel had formed a conspiracy of sorts to take care of the wounded man. Where Jack would argue with Daniel and whine with Samantha, often it took only a word or two from the gentle giant to coax the impatient patient into a new activity or a hated, painful repeated one. Teal'c also formed a bond of trust with Daniel, who was actively trying to recruit him to accompany them to Oklahoma. The Cherokee would eagerly welcome a man like him to the tribe. This Daniel hoped, would convince Samantha to come with them also. She relied on the big man as protector, and her quick wit often could see an easy attainable answer to the thorniest of problems.

General Hammond and members of his party had also become regular visitors to the farm. They continued to provide some basic staples for them from Hammond's personal supply issue, as even with money some common items could not be found readily on the open market. The General was also able to clear and get authorized the documentation for Jack's Honorable Discharge from the Army of the Potomac. That included a cash payment in US Gold dollars that the Colonel had earned over his time of service to the Union Army and the period of time during his captivity. O'Neill had a suspicion that the dollar figure had been padded somewhat, but Hammond had insisted not and wouldn't budge on the amount. George announced that he had earned every damned penny of it, and he had just made sure the amount was correct.

The young Lieutenant Graham Simmons always came. He was little more than a boy and was enjoying the positive physical activity, shaking off the war as if it had been a bad dream to him. He enjoyed the instructions in math from Sam, woodsmanship from Daniel, and physical endeavor from Teal'c. He also viewed Jack as a combat hero, which did no harm to the recovering self-image of the slowly healing O'Neill Doctor Fraiser had made her peace with both the impatient patient and the caring caretaker. Janet would assist in the doctoring of the still painful and restrictive wounds that O'Neill suffered with, giving Daniel and Sam a much needed respite from the emotional and mental stress of caring for the almost invalid, Jack. He was now beginning to suffer from cabin fever, boredom and even depression over the time, effort and pain that his recovery involved. Fraiser had also started bringing her adopted daughter, Cassie, with her. The twelve-year-old girl was especially fond of the Colonel, and she could get him out of his doldrums in the flash of a smile or with an infectious giggle.

Captain Paul Davis came in his capacity as Hammond's aide, but was also enlisted in the chores and duties around the farm. He willingly assisted in the selection and purchase of some good draft animals and a stout wagon for hauling supplies and for the upcoming trip west after Jack had improved enough physically to withstand the journey. His friendship with Daniel could get the other man to relax and relate to someone his own age. Their differing backgrounds stimulated the sharing of ideas and the similarity in their ages challenged them both to friendly competitions and the stretching of their talents in riding and shooting.

*******

During the days when they weren't occupied with the visits from their friends, or working the farm, Teal'c and Daniel had started taking on odd jobs for their neighbors who could pay to help with the money situation. Chopping wood, hoeing weeds from fields of cotton and corn, and building sheds and other structures would take Teal'c and Daniel all day but would bring in a little extra money that could be put away to purchase any special items that Jack or they as a group might need. Fresh nutritious food, with a special treat now and again, made it easier to tempt the still gaunt man to eat properly, and his physical recovery continued apace.

One early afternoon, Jack and Sam were sitting on the veranda playing a game, and waiting for the other two men to return home for the evening. Their attention was caught by a lone horseman coming up the lane at a dead gallop. A teenaged boy pulled his horse to a spinning stop. "Miz Samantha!"

Sam left the makeshift table where she had been sitting and leaned over the railing, waving at him to get his attention. "What's wrong?"

"Miz Samantha, that young feller of your'n got hurt." The boy shouted back. "He got knocked off the rafters and fell. He ain't a waking up."

Jack had struggled to his feet and taken the two steps to stand next to her. "Where?"

"At tha Ferguson's, a few mile back. Your black is bringing him home in tha buckboard. He tole me to come ahead and tell ya."

"How bad is he hurt?" Sam called back trying to stay calm for both herself and the man standing beside her. 

"He's out cold and maybe a broke arm." The boy yelled back. "Ole Bob Sawyer, he swung a board around and thumped him good." He thought a moment. "Not a purpose, he's just stupid not mean."

Jack dropped his head to his chest. "Damn it to hell, Danny." He murmured as he shook his head. "What have you done now?"

Samantha looked at him with concern. "Come on, Colonel. Let's get you back inside, and I'll go get some things ready for their arrival."

By the time the wagon came into view, Sam had a cauldron of water boiling on the wood stove and was tearing up an old cotton sheet for bandages. Sam had moved Jack back into the bedroom area some feet from the bed in his rocking chair.

When Teal'c had carried Daniel, bloodied and unconscious, up to their shared bedroom, Jack thought he'd go mad with worry as he could only watch Samantha and Teal'c take care of his friend from his place in his rocking chair. Daniel was bleeding from a gash in his scalp, a lump on his head, and one arm was scraped and beginning to swell at the elbow. Someone had immobilized it with two boards and some rags. Sam left that in place and concentrated on cleaning the dirt out of the laceration and off her friend's scratched face. 

As the two were concentrating on Daniel's injuries, someone came in the bedroom door. Teal'c was gone downstairs to bring up more water, so there was no one in the room other than Sam and Jack and their patient. At the sudden sound of the door opening, Jack bolted upright from the chair and took the four quick steps necessary to get between the bed and the door. He just about crashed into the petite Doctor Fraiser who was coming in carrying her black bag.

The woman, realizing whom it was and that he was just about to fall, grabbed him around the waist and compelled him to lean on her until she could hand him off to the General who was right behind her. Hammond got Jack back out of the way into his rocking chair and pulled a stool up to sit beside him. This allowed him to keep an eye on his old friend and restrain him from the Doctor's treatment area at the same time. 

Dr. Fraiser joined Samantha, and she quickly bent to the task at hand. Sam stood by the doctor as she examined the laceration on his scalp, handing her clean rags dipped in the warm water. Sam watched in fascination as the doctor carefully applied stitches to   
the open cut, then painted a good coating of tincture of iodine to the ragged edges. After tending the head wound, Fraiser carefully unwrapped the splinted arm. She inspected in then performed some manipulations. She then rewrapped it without the splint. 

Daniel was now beginning to wake up, and he started to struggle against the attentions of the women. Jack started to rise from his chair. Hammond helped him up and supported Jack the few steps to the bedside. The women stepped back and allowed him access to the patient. "Danny, its Jack. Calm down, you're all right." The bleary blue eyes opened and verified the voice. Jack smiled down at him and stroked his cheek. "Just relax, you got a bump to the head and took a spill." At the sound of Jack's voice, the young man closed his eyes and relaxed back into the pillows. When he was sure his young friend was safely back asleep, Jack allowed Hammond to help him back to the chair. Janet smiled at him, nodded her thanks, and moved in to finish her work. She made a quick job of the facial abrasions, cleaning them and removing a speck or two of gravel.

A short while later, Fraiser was able to step back from Daniel and survey her work. She then turned and looked at O`Neill. He was sitting on the edge of his rocking chair as tense as a bowstring. She approached the two men where they were sitting. After Janet left the bedside, Samantha tucked the covers gently over Daniel, and picked up the bowl and soiled bandages that the Doctor had used. As she passed Jack she smiled at him, then left the room.

Janet pulled another stool over and sat down wiping her hands on a towel she had been using. "Colonel, he's going to be fine. He'll have a headache for a few days, but his arm is not broken and the cut on his head is fairly minor. It shouldn't even leave a scar."

"Thank you, doctor." O'Neill said gravely. 

"You're quite welcome. You gave me quite a start when you jumped up in front of me like that."

He grinned, a little embarrassed at his own precipitous defensive actions. "I've been practicing."

She smiled back at him. "I can tell. You've come a long way. I'm very happy for you."

He nodded towards the bed. "It was him, he wouldn't leave me be. He's a very stubborn man."

Fraiser remembered the conversations she had with Daniel about Jack. "I know, believe me, I know."

Hammond smiled knowingly at the other man. "How long have you been walking, Jack?"

"Well, about a week and a half if you want to call it walking." He mumbled shy, self-conscious of the praise.

"Well, it's a damn sight better than you were when I first saw you here. So, have you decided what you want to do now that you're beginning to look like you have a future?"

"Been thinking on it." He replied, then glanced at the bed. "Looks like we'll have to postpone a little longer now." Hammond nodded. "Daniel wants to go back to the Nations and winter there. We'll need to leave no later than mid August, to beat the cold weather."

Janet had pulled another chair up and joined the two men. "What about Samantha?"

"I think Daniel has asked her and Teal'c to come along with us. We're hoping they'll both want to get a new start now that the war is truly over." He looked around at the room. "Though she may not want to leave this place." 

"On the contrary, Colonel. I would love to leave here." Sam came back into the room with a tray of lemonade drinks. "My father sent me away from here over ten years ago when my mother died. He sent for me as the war started, then left me here to run the place." She shrugged."I was leaving as soon as he came back anyway, to go back north to the school I graduated from. I was promised a teaching job there if I still want it."

"What about Teal'c?"

"Then he'll be free to pursue his own life…not spend it looking after me anymore." She glanced at her friend, the doctor. "What about you, Janet?"

"The General has asked that I go with him to Texas." The petite woman replied. "There's always room for a doctor there, even if she is a woman." Fraiser made a rather unlady-like face. "It seems that people here in civilization want a man doctor to tend their ills, not a woman who might faint at the sight of blood."

"I don't recall any fainting going on in here," Jack said dryly."Unless it was me when you started stitching and sewing on Danny over there."

Janet shook her head at him and smiled. She could tell that O'Neill was also tiring. He was a long way from being well himself. "Why don't we leave you alone, Colonel." She glanced at the younger man still asleep on the bed. "Daniel needs his rest, and" she waggled her finger at him, "I think so do you."

Jack nodded. "I think you're right. This worrying is hard work." He tried to smother a yawn, unnoticed.

Sam offered her friend her shoulder as the others left the room and helped him to his side of the bed. "I'll send Teal'c up later to help with your bath. By then Daniel will want to supervise your treatment anyway."

Jack nodded. "I'll supervise his too."

She crossed the room and started to close the door after herself."I'm not surprised."

*******

After several hours, Daniel awoke under the concerned gaze of Jack. "Hey, partner. How ya feeling?" The older man asked gently.

Daniel looked up at him with pain reflected in the blue eyes. "What hit me?"

"From what we're being told it was a four by six board wielded by someone named Bob Sawyer, who's stupid but not mean."

The younger man grimaced. "So I jumped when I should have ducked. "

"Yep, that's about the size of it." He smiled at Daniel's frown, "Now what?"

"Do I have a black eye?"

"Yep, a black eye, a blue shoulder and elbow, and a red stripe down your scalp." Daniel reached his hand up to his head wound. He gingerly touched the stitches. "Ouch, what is this stuff in my head?"

"White man's medicine, or white woman's anyway." Jack reached over and took his friend's hand in his to keep him from touching the wound. "She stitched you up like a worn out overcoat then poured iodine over the wound. Said it would keep the bad things out of your head." O'Neill looked at him crossways. "Wished I would of known about that stuff years ago, would have saved me a lot of trouble."

"Now, Colonel," a feminine voice broke in. "I don't believe this young man ever had any bad things in his head." Dr. Fraiser came in the room with a tray laden with two plates of food in her hands."

"Well, I can't speak for his childhood, but his young adulthood period was a bit stressful on old Wise Eagle and me."

"Wise Eagle?" She asked as she sat the tray down. 

"Daniel's Grandpaw. Now, Wise Eagle, he raised him from a pup." Jack smiled at his friend, "Only thing he couldn't break Danny of was wandering off to find new things."

Another tap on the door got all of their attention. Janet's daughter Cassie peeked in the doorway. "Can I come in?" She was a brown haired, big eyed twelve-year-old and adored both Jack and Daniel. 

Jack turned to her and smiled. "Sure darling, come say hi to Daniel and admire his purty black eye."

She slipped in the room, shyly. "Momma said you got hit in the head and fell offa something."

Daniel managed a small smile for her. "That about covers it all right. I guess I wasn't careful enough."

"Yeah, I'm sure you told that guy to thump you with that rafter beam." Jack chuckled. 

"You gonna tell a story, Jack?" Cassie asked seriously. "It sounded like one."

"Oh, which story would that be, honey?" Janet asked absentmindedly as she examined the wound in Daniel's light colored hair. 

"Why he and Daniel are such good friends."

"Well, that's just cause we really liked each other when we met." Jack explained.

"And he saved my life." Daniel offered. "What's not to like about that?"

"Oh, really?" Fraiser looked at the two men. "You two make a habit of this type of behavior?"

"Let me tell you something, Doc." Jack said seriously. "If you do decide to go to Texas with the General, you'll be seeing a lot more life saving or losing situations than in a normal eastern town. There are a lot of good folks out there, but there's some bad ones   
too. And from what he's telling me, where's he's going, there may be more of one than the other."

"So, are you going to tell me the story?" Cassie pleaded to get his attention.

Jack reached over and pulled her into a hug. "Tell you what. Danny only lets me tell this one once a year, so why don't we wait until after supper when we're all comfortable then I can tell it to everybody all at once. That way he can listen too and correct me when he thinks its necessary. Deal?" Jack looked over the girl's head and winked at his partner. Daniel just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

*******

That evening; after Daniel had woken up from his nap and the group had eaten the evening meal, they were all sitting out on the front porch. Teal'c had assisted O'Neill down the stairs and Simmons brought down his rocking chair. Sam and Janet had prepared a peach cobbler for dessert, and Cassie was still working on her serving. Everyone else had finished theirs and were sitting around filling each other in on the latest happenings.

Finally, Jack looked at the twelve-year-old who was fidgeting. "All right, young lady. I recognize that look from several other kids I'm involved with. What's your problem?"

"You haven't told the story yet." She reminded him primly. "You promised."

"Why what story is that, Cassie honey?"

"The one where you `splain Daniel."

"Honey, nobody can `splain, Daniel. He's a force of nature." Jack glanced over at his friend who rolled his eyes.

"I think it's bedtime, Jack." Daniel made as if to get up. "I know when it's time to retreat even without being in the Calvary."

"Don't you want to stay and see if I tell it right?" Jack answered. "I might lie, ya know?"

"Well, maybe in the pursuit of truth." Daniel settled back in the chair. "Though I sure would like a glass of milk after that cobbler." He winked at Cassie with his unblacked eye.

Cassie glared at him. "Okay, but don't start without me."

"Hurry up then, Cassie. You know how sneaky he is, he might escape." Hammond called after her as she left for the kitchen.

******

Jack's Story

 

The tall Texas Ranger rode his horse to the top of the small hillock and shifted his weight back into the saddle. The black Mustang obediently came to a stop then dropped his head to crop at the short grass when the reins were slacked. Jack O’Neill gazed out across the prairie valley and admired the huge herd of buffalo that were spread out in front of him. There were thousands of the black beasts as far as his practiced eye could see. He tilted his faded black sombrero back off his forehead and reached for his canteen. 

As he took a sip of the water, he noted another movement off to the left of the bunch. There he saw a small group of men, also on horseback, approaching the herd. They appeared to be Indians of some kind but not of the typical plains variety. Pulling out his telescoping spyglass, he checked them out for Tribal identity. 

After a few brief moments, he remembered hearing that a group of Cherokee was down from the Oklahoma Indian Nation in the area hunting to supplement their winter meat stores. He carefully stowed his glass back into his saddlebags, picked up on the reins and started down the hill to see if he could lend a hand.

But before he could get to them, he saw a small group of horsemen break away from the main party. Five or six men, all carrying rifles, were headed out into the herd. When they were quite close, they started to fire their weapons. As their prey beasts fell, the men would have to reload the old single shot weapons. People from the main group would drive out with wagons and begin to butcher and load the meat.

When O’Neill reached the group of men, he hailed the hunting party. “Ho, the wagons.”

A middle-aged Indian stood up from the skinning detail and came over to greet him. The man’s long hair was held in place with the traditional turban and he was wearing a calico shirt over his leather leggings. He watched O’Neill dismount. Taking in his dress, gear and horse in one glance he returned the greeting. “Ho, Ranger. How does it go with you?”

“It goes fine. I see you are hunting.”

“Yes, it will be our last hunt this fall.” The dark skinned man replied. “The winter is coming and the drought did not do us well in the Nations this year.” He indicated the other men still engaged in the bloody business of skinning out a carcass. “We take the meat back to our families in the north.”

O’Neill nodded. “It is a good thing to be able to care for the tribe. Would you like some help? I don’t need to be in Fort Worth until next week, and I would like some company to camp with tonight. I am O‘Neill; I ride with the Ranger Company out of San Antonio.”

“A-se-hi, (yes). That would be good.” The leader replied. “I am John Running Wolf from the Cherokee. I would finish quickly tomorrow or the next day so that we get back before the first blue norther comes.” He rubbed his right arm with his left hand. “My bones tell me winter will be early this year.”

Some of the hunters were arriving back into the party of men. One young man in particular guided his horse over towards where the headman and the Ranger were talking. “A-du-tsi (Uncle), have you seen Wa-ya (Coyote)?”

The man looked up at the hunter. “No, he went with you. He has not returned.”

The young hunter grunted in frustration. “I will go and look for him. He has become separated from us...again”

O’Neill looked at his host, “I will go and help search for your hunter.” At the leader’s grateful nod, he mounted his horse and joined the other man. The two of them rode off towards the herd. As they approached the search area, Jack looked at the other hunter. “Who are we looking for?”

“We look for my uncle’s adopted white son, Wa-ya.” The young man replied. “He calls him Coyote, because the boy is very clever. I think we should call him Nu-da Go-dv-nv (crazy crawfish) because he’s always going off into holes and getting lost.”

O’Neill had to smile at the descriptive name. “What does he look like?”

The man smiled back. “He’s very slender, with long legs like a Mustang colt and fair skinned. Tan hair, sky colored eyes and he rides an old roan pony. This is his first hunt and he was supposed to stay with me.” He shook his head. “But Wa-ya always sees more than is there and must go and look, like a sa-lo-li (squirrel).

“All young ones are like that.” O’Neill nodded. They were entering a shallow valley that split into two arroyos, with scrub brush and hollows that offered many hiding places. “Why don’t we split up and see if we can find your sa-lo-li.”

The other man nodded, “His white name is Daniel.” He called as he turned his horse to the west valley. The Ranger nodded and rode east. 

O’Neill had been riding about ten minutes, when his horse raised his head and snorted. The Ranger loosened his rifle in its scabbard and made sure it was ready. Then he rode out of the arroyo and into another flat plain area. What he saw caused him to kick his horse into a flat headlong gallop. 

There was a small group of twenty stampeding buffalo being led by a huge charging bull. Directly in front of them was a boy on foot running for a stand of trees as fast as he was able. However, the animals were rapidly gaining ground on the youth and it was going to be bad if they caught him. O’Neill’s horse was sprinting towards the boy but it would be a close race to see who got to him first. Jack, knowing his rifle to be useless at this speed, pulled his Navy Colt out of its holster, and as he drew near the huge animal, he started firing into the vulnerable neck area. Finally, the beast veered off from his pursuit and the rest of the herd followed his lead. 

Continuing on, O’Neill reached the runner and slowed his horse enough to grab the boy up off the ground by his arm and swing him up behind him. The Mustang turned the opposite direction from the herd and continued his hand gallop on into the sheltered area where the beasts couldn’t see them anymore. When they had reached safety, the boy slid down off the horse. O’Neill dismounted, and regarded his rescued prize. 

“You hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” The youngster replied quickly. “I’m fine. Uh, thanks very much.” He indicated the direction they had come from. “That old bull decided I was the cause of his troubles. My pony fell when he charged. Did you find her? Where did you come from”?

O’Neill shook his head at the verbal barrage. “No, I didn’t see any pony. I was visiting with your father when another hunter came to see if you had made it back to camp. We had come looking for you.” He reached a hand out to gently touch the young man’s face, Daniel turned it slightly avoiding the touch but allowing Jack to examine an abrasion on his cheek. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, I don’t think so.” The young man answered quickly, “Oh, my name is Daniel and well, thanks for the timely rescue.”

“You’re welcome, young Daniel.” Jack turned and mounted his horse, then reached down to pull Daniel up behind the saddle. “Let’s go see if we can find your pony.” 

The youngster hesitated a moment but finally reached up for the helping hand. O’Neill swung him up behind the saddle and they turned, picking their way carefully through the brush. “What made that ole bull go after you anyway? Looked like you had meat enough to handle your needs without him.” O’Neill asked.

“I was looking for wounded animals. We don’t like animals to suffer needlessly.” Daniel shrugged. “There was a young cow that was gut shot, I wanted to end it for her. She must have been one of his favorites.”

“I’d say so.” O’Neill agreed. They rounded a small hill and saw a blue roan mare standing grazing. When she saw her young master, she nickered to him and took a limping step forward.  
Daniel slipped off the back of O’Neill’s mustang. “You are hurt, Tsi-s-qua-yi.” Daniel fretted, examining her injured leg. “You are too old for this, I think.” 

O’Neill had to smile as the mare turned to nuzzle her master. She made a little huhuhu noise as she inspected him for damage. “That horse thinks a lot of you boy.” He commented softly.

The youngster turned and flashed a bright smile at him. “She was my first horse I was given when I joined the tribe. She thinks I belong to her. I call her Sparrow because she is always singing to me like that.”

“Well, let’s get you and Sparrow back to camp.” He dismounted and walked over to check the horse’s injury. As he approached the pair, Jack saw a dark stain on Daniel’s buckskin leggings. “I thought you said you weren’t hurt.” He pointed to the growing spot.

Daniel looked down as if in surprise. “It didn’t feel that bad.” He commented almost to himself. “I thought I just scraped it when I fell.”

Jack pulled the skin away from the lean thigh muscle. There was a hole through the material the size of a silver dollar. “Scraped it on a buffalo horn from the look of it.” He grunted. “You’ve got the lives of a cat, Daniel.”

*******

“...And he still does.” O’Neill finished, picking up his refilled cup of coffee. “Thank you for the coffee, Samantha. Tale telling is dry business.” He looked around smiled over at Cassie where she sat at her mothers feet.

“So that’s how the two of you met?” Sam asked, her blue eyes brimming with more curiosity and questions.

Jack nodded. “I went on to Fort Worth the following day and didn’t think anything of it until I was based out of a Ranger Post along the Red River. There I ran into Daniel and his folks again. We’d hunt together or just visit. Then, I was bushwacked by some outlaws I was trailing and left for dead. Danny’s grandpaw, Wise Eagle had been down to the tribal gathering to sit on the council when they found me. I wintered with them that year and got my strength back.”

Daniel nodded, “He joined the tribe that year, saw me get married, then left us to go to the war.” He looked at his friend. “He never came back.”

“Wasn’t for lack of wanting, Danny-boy. Many a night I’ve lain cold, hungry and hurting in that camp thinking about what I been foolish enough to leave behind to go fight in the damned war.”

“You’re married?” Samantha turned to Daniel to press for more information.

“I was. Sha’nee...she... she died, two years ago.” the young man dropped his eyes to the floor and shook his head. 

Jack reached over to Daniel and laid his hand on his young friend’s shoulder. He’d been afraid to ask, but he’d known that Daniel couldn’t have left his wife to search for him. Daniel looked up and met his eyes. He’d tell Jack later, but he couldn’t talk about it now. It would upset both of them, and Jack didn’t need that right now. Neither did he.

Hammond cleared his throat. “Well, now that you’re well on your way to recovery, Jack. I have something to say.” When he had everyone's attention, he continued on in a somber voice that Jack recognized. It was his sad pronouncement voice. “I’m leaving the army, Jack. I’ve got some business waiting at home to take care of.” The General paused a moment, took a breath, then continued. “I lost my son at Gettysburg. He was with Hood’s men at Little Roundtop. I got word that he was killed sometime back.” He straightened his shoulders and continued. “He and...my daughter-in-law have two little girls. Now that the war’s finally really over, I’m needed at home.”

“I knew you couldn’t stay to wait on me, George.“ O’Neill nodded. “I do appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll come down and pay me back by taking that job I talked to you about.”

“I’ll just have to see,” Jack returned. “I need to do a bit more healing. Then, then I‘ll think on it.” He looked from Hammond to each member of his group. 

“I figure these are the folks that you want to go with you.” Hammond nodded at him. “Good people, they ought to make the job easier.”

“You let me know, Jack. Like you I got a long way to go to get home. I’ll...we’ll be leaving the end of this week. Just as well, I need to get there to gather some men. You know they disbanded the Rangers?”

Jack shook his head negatively. “I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. A lot of the men fought with Terry and Hood for the Confederacy. The provisional governor probably won’t trust them.”

Daniel had been listening with interest. “I saw Ferretti and Siler. They made it through the war and were going back to San Antone.” He saw the two men become interested in what he was saying. “They’re who told what had happened to you."

Jack looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know anyone knew where I was." He glanced at Hammond.

"Jack, your Commander didn't just leave you, he lost the field." Hammond looked at him, gauging his reactions.

"Ferretti told me he went looking for you after the battle was over." Daniel commented. "He said he found your horse and sent him under."

Hammond looked somber. "Was Ferretti in your unit?"

Jack shook his head. "No, he was in Powell's division. I was with Custer's division. We were Calvary commanded by Major General Torbert who was under Sheridan. But we were Rangers together first."

"I don't understand," Janet Fraiser looked questioningly at both men. "If you were in different units…?

Daniel looked knowingly at her. "Rangers don't leave anyone behind. If they're captured by Comanche or Apache or even Comancheros, they would be tortured. The Rangers always tried to take their wounded with them, or with no other choice, to kill them to prevent that from happening."

O'Neill spoke softly. "No one gets left behind."

"But surely not here, not when you're fighting a civilized foe." Janet looked shocked.

"No, probably not here," The General agreed, "but they would have tried to rescue him if they would have known where he was." He looked at Jack. "I heard you'd been captured, I wanted to arrange a prisoner exchange, but something happened and the upper echelons stopped all of them. By the time I'd been able to find you, well, Lee had surrendered and all the records were confused. I had hoped you'd been released." He smiled over at the young man in the rocking chair. "It took an Indian Scout to find you."

"And a very determined one at that. Of course, with a name like Jackson…I would expect no less." Jack grinned at the now blushing Daniel.

“I am no relation to Andrew Jackson, Jack O’Neill.” Daniel denied, hotly. 

“No, but I’d bet a U.S.silver dollar to a Confederate bill you’re part Scotch-Irish!”

*******

The General and his group left early the next morning for their unit. O'Neill waved forlornly at them from his rocking chair up on the second floor. Daniel limped over to stand next to his friend. Jack smiled at him. 'We're a pair, aren't we?"

"Yes, a pair of lame ponies."

"Well, it gives us an excuse to stay and fatten up before we start the trip," Jack nodded, "now that Samantha and Teal'c are going with us."

"Oh, that's good." The younger man nodded at his partner. "Where was I when this happened?"

Jack looked at him knowingly. "You were unconscious."

"Oh." Daniel looked nonplussed and paused for a moment. "How long was I out anyway?"

"Well, you sort of came and went, but it was for several hours." Jack looked at him. "Don't do that again."

"Get hit in the head, fall off a roof, or be unconscious."

"Any of those." Jack grimaced. "I got a glimpse of myself in Cassie's mirror. I have enough gray hair to rival Wise Eagle."

"That was from your illness, not my doing." Then he changed the subject. "But now, we can wait for Dolly to finish."

"Dolly?" The older man looked confused. "Who's Dolly?"

"A very elegant old lady who has one more big job to complete before she comes west with us." At Jack's confused look, he continued. "She's been doing her best for all of us, so it is time for us to show her some consideration." Daniel smiled.

"Why haven't I met this paragon of virtue yet?" Jack demanded.

"Well, she can't quite make it up the stairs in her delicate condition." Daniel laughed. Then he pointed to the field that ran along the east side of the house. “Look, over there.”

"Delicate…what?" Jack looked up at him with confusion. “You just said she was an old lady.”

Daniel finally gave in and laughed softly. “She’s an ole lady horse, Jack, a broodmare. See the long-legged bay there in the pasture with my ponies and the mule. She has been pulling the buckboard with Lillie, the molly mule. She’s overdue by now, and Sam’s getting worried about her.”

“A horse?”

“No, a valuable broodmare, the last of her family’s racehorse bloodlines.” Daniel glanced towards the barn. “I think she’s the last thing that Sam really cares about here. Everything else has been ruined for her.” He looked back down at Jack. “You can see where I’m going with this...”

Jack could see and he understood. Everyone needs something to hold on to. All Samantha Carter had of her lost life of plenty and privilege was a falling down plantation house, an ex-slave, a too small mule, and an old broodmare with royal racing bloodlines and a foal in her belly. “So, we wait. How much longer till it’s born?”

“Well, she could lay down and birth right now.” Daniel said, “I looked at her yesterday and thought she was ready. But,” he shrugged, “one cannot rush these things.”

Jack had to smile at his friend, “Yes, Doctor Jackson.”

Daniel tilted his head to the side, looking all the world like a curious colt himself. 

*******

The rest of the week passed gently for they four friends. Then, on Friday night, after they had gone to sleep, a pounding came on the bedroom door. Daniel pulled on his pants and went to open it. It was Sam, also wearing trousers and a man's shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. “Daniel, it’s time.”

“I’ll be there,” he crossed back to the bed. “Jack, I’m going to try to help the mare.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll wait right here. Go tend to the horse, Danny.”

Daniel turned and went out with Samantha. Jack managed to get out of bed and hobble over to his rocking chair. In the bright moonlight, he could watch the two young people cross the barnyard at a run to the corral area.

*******

He must have fallen asleep in the chair. The next thing he knew was the bright morning sun on his face and a crick in his neck from sleeping upright. Daniel was asleep in the bed, still fully dressed.

As he meditated on trying to get up and back over to the bed by himself, Jack heard the door open. Teal’c entered carrying a tray of food. He sat it down on the small table by the fireplace and went out to where O’Neill sat. “Good morning.”

Jack looked at him. “Is it?” He motioned towards the barn. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, though I think we would have lost the mare without your Daniel.” the big man shook his head. “I know nothing of such things except both of the animals are alive.

Jack nodded, "He's got a touch all right. I think the doctoring world came up short when they missed out on him."

Teal'c came out to the veranda and offered the older man his assistance to get back on his feet. "That is a truth, O'Neill. He has a healing talent." 

Jack leaned heavily on the big man's arm and they went back into the bedroom. He sat down at the small table and started to eat his breakfast. "This is good, Teal'c. Thank you for bringing it."

"It was no trouble. Samantha and I did not breakfast until late." He allowed a small smile. "She did not want to leave the horses."

"What does it look like?" Jack asked curiously. 

"It is a golden colored female. Samantha was surprised, and said they were very rare."

"It is very unusual." Jack agreed. "Those horses are worth a lot of money, to the right buyers."

"I don't believe it is her intention to sell the infant."

"The infant?" O'Neill was surprised at the turn of phrase. He looked at the man seated across from him. "Teal'c, where are you from? I don't believe I've ever met anyone like you before."

Teal’c looked at him with interest. “You are the first of your kind to ever ask me that. I am not from this, your country, originally. My people's tribe is from the place you call Africa, but I was born on an island in your southern sea. My mother was a free woman. When I was still a boy just entering my manhood, I was caught and put on a boat for a land you call Louisiana. That was over forty years ago. i still remember the land of my birth. Someday,I would like to return there to search for my family and to find a place to live free.”

“So you weren’t born into slavery.” O’Neill looked at the big man in surprise. “It was supposed to be illegal to import new slaves into the United States.”

“There are many things that are supposed to be illegal, but which occur every day.” He looked at O'Neill who nodded.

"Well, I can appreciate your wanting to go home to look for your folks, but now you'll be able to live free legally in the United States." O'Neill looked at him. “And in the Indian territories, you would be welcomed."

"So Daniel has said. I would go with you to see Samantha and you home safe, then I will decide what I will do."

Jack nodded. "Of course, that's what living free is all about, making your own decisions, finding your place. It’s a good thing."

*******

Two weeks later, Daniel Jackson helped his friend, Jack O’Neill, down the stairs of the Carter house, and out into the yard. A golden palomino filly, seeing one of her familiar humans, trotted over and sniffed him looking for a treat. She accepted the small carrot from him then trotted back to her mother’s side. Dolly was standing harnessed to the light buckboard with her regular trace mate, Lillie, the molly mule. They looked a little odd but worked well together, not unlike the group of humans that were their people. Jack chuckled at her antics, and Daniel smiled at his friend’s good spirits. 

Samantha Carter climbed out of the heavily laden Conestoga wagon. “Well, I see you made it downstairs okay, but Teal’c should probably lift you in.

Jack made a face at her but nodded. “I had hoped to be better by now.”

“You are better, Jack.” Daniel replied. “You are so much better, I can barely believe it, but we cannot risk you accidentally hurting yourself.”

“I know,” the older man sighed. “but I’m just sick and tired of being sick and tired. When is this thing ever gonna heal?” Referring to his still healing leg wound.

“As with all things, in it’s due course.” The younger man smiled at him.

“Can I at least ride sitting up in the buckboard?”

Daniel shook his head. “Not yet. We talked about this. You need to lie down, the damage....”

Jack made a face at him and then sighed. “Okay, I get it...I get it. But Danny, I’m gonna be in the saddle when we get to the Nations, or the women will not let me alone all winter long.”

“But, Jack, think of all the attention you’ll get from the Indian maidens,” Samantha said to him gaily. 

“Hah!” Jack laughed at her surprised expression. “Danny, what have you been telling these people?”

“I’ve been telling them not to read Penny Dreadfuls and expect them to be true.” The younger man said. “But Samantha insists.” He shook his head at the young woman. “I just hope she’s not too disappointed in the noble red man.”

“Oh, I don’t know, my Indian hasn’t disappointed me yet.” Jack teased him fondly. 

Teal‘c came back to where there were talking from the front of the wagon. “I would say not, O’Neill. Are you ready?”

“I suppose so.” He sighed and allowed the big man to climb up in the covered wagon’s bed before hobbling over to its back where a flour barrel stood on end. He reached up to take Teal'c’s hands, and Daniel lifted and steadied him to step up on to the wooden container. With this extra elevation, Teal’c effortlessly lifted the still thin man into the vehicle and supported him to where a feather mattress and blankets lay. Jack didn’t say anything until he was firmly ensconced in his ‘bed’. “Thank you, Teal’c.“

He nodded to the injured man. “It is no problem, O’Neill.” Then he climbed back down out of the wagon.

“Daniel,” Jack called.

“Yes, Jack?” He looked in the rear of the wagon as Teal’c climbed up into the box seat.

“Daniel, first town we come to, I want some boots.”

The young man had to laugh, but quickly stopped at the forlorn look on his friend’s face. “Jack, if I buy you boots, you will want to put them on. Then you will want to try them out, then you will want to walk...No, I think no boots for a little while yet. Besides, they will be Georgia boots, not Texas boots.”

“So not fair.” Jack bitched.

“But so right, isn’t he Colonel?” Sam came to stand next to Daniel.

“Well, maybe a little,” Jack had to smile at the two of them.

“But, I will make you some moccasins, Jack, so your feet don’t get cold.”

“Daniel, we’re going to be crossing the southern states...my feet won’t be cold...” then, O’Neill realized what he had said and changed his tone quickly. “But I sure would like to have a pair anyway.” The two young people laughed at his contrite expression, then exchanged a silent look between them. Jack would have his boots at the first town.

Teal’c turned in his seat to look back into the wagon. “Are we ready, Samantha?”

Carter nodded her head and went to get into the buckboard. Daniel untied his two horses from the hitching rail by the house and led them back over to the big wagon. He tied Brown pony to its corner. “Do not feed him all the potatoes.” Daniel warned O’Neill with a grin. “We will need them for the trip.” Jack and the Indian pony traded knowing glances. Daniel shook his head and swung up on the red mare. Once mounted, he looked in at his friend. “Are you ready, Ta-Wa-di?” (Hawk)

“A-se-hi, Wa-ya!” (Yes, Coyote). Jack replied in Cherokee, then switched to English. “Take me home, Danny. I just want to go home.”

“So do I, Jack. And we’re headed there now.”

Daniel took the point position and the Red Mare stepped off in a westernly direction, she knew the way back to where they belonged, the open land of the west. 

Teal’c slapped the reins down on the draft mules’ back and the big wagon started off, following Daniel on the Indian pony to the free land of the west.

Sam looked back at the old plantation house that had been in her family for three generations, dashed a tear from her face with one hand, and spoke to her team. The mare and the mule followed the big wagon towards the new land of the west.

Jack O’Neill settled back into his place in the wagon. They were headed back towards the Mississippi River, to Oklahoma for awhile, then onto Texas and beyond. They were indeed headed home to his land of the west.

 

The end.... of this story.

 

AUTHOR’S NOTES  
*********************

For references to the battle of Cedar Creek where Colonel O’Neill was wounded and captured, go to The American Civil War Overview CHAPTER XVII THE EASTERN THEATER: SHERIDAN'S SHENANDOAH VALLEY CAMPAIGN. Interestingly enough, the Confederate General Early's Army of the Valley, with four infantry divisions and a division of cavalry, was to be reinforced by mid-August with Kershaw's infantry division and Fitz Lee's cavalry division. These reinforcements, under the command of General Richard Anderson, were to support Early's operations east of the Blue Ridge. (play Twilight Zone theme please!)

 

FOR information on the Southern POW camp known as Camp Sumter (or more infamously as Andersonville) go to http://www.angelfire.com/ga2/Andersonvilleprison/diary.html

 

And for the English--Cherokee Dictionary...go to http://wehali.com/tsalagi/index.cfm?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a great shoot em up story for the Sheriff yet, but I love this song and hope it fits here a little bit.  
> The Gringo Pistolero by Alan Wayne Damon. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clVKSAesl-E


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